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Chapter Text

“Everyone, thank you for coming.”

Nick has a feeling he knows what this meeting is about. The Bachelor Nation production team meets the first week of January every year before The Bachelor begins airing to discuss logistics and pat each other on the back for a successful previous year. The summit runs for a week, and they’ll get budgets, date locations, and filming schedules for the entire upcoming year knocked out of the way. Nick isn’t really a part of the production team, but he’s hosted the show since the very beginning, since before most of these people even thought about taking a job with Bachelor Nation—and these days, before some of them were even born—and he’s close friends with Alexander Pierce, who’s headed the production team for just as long, so he always gets an invitation.

“Julia, can we get the petition up here on the screen?” Alex asks, gesturing at the screen.

Just as Nick had suspected, the petition currently making its way around the internet appears in all its eight-point-three million signature glory. He keeps his face impassive and carefully doesn’t look at either Maria or Phil, the production team behind The Bachelorette. They’d been parceled out to other Bachelor Nation shows after ABC took the show off the air five years ago, but he counts both of them as friends, and he knows that they’re eager for the show to return regardless of the past tragedy.

“As you all know, five years ago, we took The Bachelorette off the air, following Betty Ross’s death,” Alex continues. There’s an understatement, Nick thinks to himself. People had been screaming for the show to be cancelled after Betty’s murder at one of her suitor’s hands. “At the time, we all thought it was the right thing to do, and most of America agreed with us. However…”

He gestures at the screen again. Nick glances up at the title. The words are simple but powerful: BRING BACK THE BACHELORETTE! The petition got off the ground only a few days ago, which is why it wasn’t brought up at the summit, but the amount of support it got in such a short amount of time lends it more credence than any of the other petitions that have gone around in the last five years.

He’s not surprised that people want The Bachelorette back. Most of the viewership for all of the Bachelor Nation franchise shows are omegas, and most of them would say that they’re there to see true romance blossoming on the screen—but the viewership numbers don’t lie. The most watched episodes of The Bachelor are the ones where the omegas competing for the alpha bachelor’s affections wind up in a catfight, which, over the years, has resulted in more dramatic seasons to rake in the viewership numbers. The Bachelorette, in contrast, always drew a… softer crowd, in comparison—the people who really were there for the romance, not the drama. Nick isn’t surprised people want that back now that a full five years have passed since Betty’s death.

Of course, there’s frequently a difference between what people say they want and what they really want, but in this case, he’s inclined to not only agree with them, but to say that the time is right to bring the show back. Betty’s death is five years behind them. In the entertainment industry, that’s practically ancient news. Bringing the show back now is unlikely to garner harsh criticism and claims of callousness—from the general public, anyway. If they wait too much longer, it’ll seem pointless to bring it back. They need to strike when the iron’s hot. And, truth be told, while Alex had shuffled around the staff after the show went off the air so they wouldn’t lose their jobs with no warning, there really isn’t a need to have so many people working on their various shows. At this point, without the extra money that The Bachelorette brings in, they need to start making staffing cuts—unless, of course, they bring it back.

Nick gets all of this, but, personally, he doesn’t feel completely ready to bring the show back. He was there when Betty was killed. He held her in her final moments as he yelled for a medic who wouldn’t come until it was too late. He never wants to see another omega put in that situation again, and no matter how much Alex promises him that that won’t happen, there’s always that chance. They’d have to put in a lot of work to make the show safer before he’d feel ready to bring the show back.

But he’s just the host. He doesn’t have a say in the matter.

And he can’t deny that bringing The Bachelorette back would be good for the franchise. Viewership numbers have been dropping over the last couple seasons of The Bachelor and The Bachelorum. Ratings aren’t great for any of the spinoff shows. Bringing back a fan-favorite would be a good way to up both the viewership and the ratings and ensure that everyone on the team has a job for at least another few years.

But…

“If we’re going to do this, you have to promise me that we won’t have another Emil Blonsky on our hands,” Nick says, cutting right through the squabbling that’s broken out over the petition.

Alex pauses and looks at him. There’s a triumphant gleam in his eyes, like he already knows that he’s won. Bastard. Nick might count him as a friend, but he can’t deny that Alexander Pierce, producer extraordinaire, has always seen money first.

“Of course we won’t,” Alex says smoothly. “We can do background checks on the contestants—”

“And Blonsky’s would have read that he had PTSD from his time in the special forces but no latent violent tendencies,” Nick interrupts. “Background checks aren’t good enough.”

“Yeah,” Maria agrees. “I want security on the ground, on the production team, whatever it takes—and none of this letting eliminated contestants return. Once the bachelorette says they’re done, they’re done.”

“Letting eliminated contestants return is how we get half of our drama out of this show,” Alex protests immediately. “God knows we’re not getting catfights out of these alphas.”

He’s not wrong, but Nick is loathe to admit it.

It’s Phil who says, “Fine. But if we’re opening up that possibility—which, I’ll remind you, is how we landed in hot water the last time—then I want a bodyguard planted with the other contestants. With thirty alphas, the odds might be low the bachelorette will go for that one, but if we get someone charismatic, then we can keep them on the show long enough to make sure that the other alphas are safe. They can get a measure of the alphas when we can’t, what they’re like when the cameras are off—”

“But if they say to pull the plug on a contestant,” Nick continues, “then that’s it. They’re done. I don’t care if they bring in the highest ratings, I don’t care if they’re a fan favorite. I’ll agree to a bodyguard, but the moment they say someone isn’t working out, then that person is out.”

Alex looks sour about it but nods sharply. “Agreed. Alright, background checks, a planted bodyguard, anything else?”

“I do,” Phil says. “Who’s going to be the next bachelorette?”

Immediately, debate breaks out again.

Traditionally, the bachelorette has been chosen from the previous season of The Bachelor. Usually, by the time the season was getting ready to air, they would’ve been in talks already with multiple omegas about the possibility and then narrowed in on a choice based on how favorably the audience reacted towards them while the show was airing, with filming for The Bachelorette beginning only days after The Bachelor season finale aired. They don’t have that luxury this time, though. The season premiere was yesterday, and because none of them were expecting to bring The Bachelorette back, none of the omegas from the season have even been approached about the possibility. That doesn’t give them a lot of time to scope out the possibilities, gauge the audience’s reception, negotiate a contract, and find thirty alphas interested in dating them, all before the season finale in eleven weeks.

Unless…

“I have an idea,” Nick says abruptly, again cutting off the arguments. Most of the directors in the room are leaning towards using this year to prepare and start airing the new season next year. Nick understands that perspective, but he also knows, as do the producers, that they’ll lose a lot of the momentum from the petition if they wait an entire year. So if they’re not going to wait an entire year, and they don’t have the time to do their usual vetting process, then they need someone who’ll catch attention, someone fans would be excited to see as the bachelorette.

“Well? Go ahead, Nick,” Alex says impatiently. “Don’t leave us hanging.”

“We bring in Stark’s kid.”

The room goes so silent he could’ve heard a rose petal drop. He waits. His suggestion is unorthodox. Tony Stark isn’t one of the omegas currently competing on The Bachelor. The alphas they interview to be contestants won’t know anything about him, so they’ll be going in blind. But Nick is certain about this: Tony’s the right choice to bring the show back.

“Tony Stark?” one of the assistant directors for Bachelor in Paradise asks. She has a dubious expression on her face. “He can’t keep an alpha for longer than six weeks.”

“Because he’s a romantic,” Nick says. He can’t blame her for falling for the tabloid stories. After all, Tony encourages them. But Nick has known Tony since he was only a few weeks old. He knows the kid behind the façade. “He wants what his parents have. He’s been fed the Bachelor story his entire life—if anyone knows the potential of this show and what it sells, it’s the first bachelor’s kid.”

Howard Stark’s season of The Bachelor, the very first one ever, had been one of the few successes of the show. Nick knows that there’s potential behind the concept of dating thirty people at once and narrowing down the choices, but after so long doing this, he also knows that most people won’t be able to pull it off. But Tony… Tony grew up surrounded by people who’d been on the show and found their soulmates and made it work. He knows how to make the setup work to his advantage.

“He’s a legacy,” Nick presses. “Think about it. The first bachelor’s kid—him finding his alpha on this show would read like fate to our viewers.”

“He’s got a fortune behind him,” Maria says, grudgingly admiring. “It’ll help with finding alphas, much as I hate to admit it. We’ll get as much drama as we could possibly want out of alphas not being there for the right reasons just based on the billions he stands to inherit.”

“And he’s got self-defense training,” Nick finishes. Howard and Maria Stark had made sure that their kid knew how to take care of himself if anyone tried to kidnap him. “He’ll be as safe as he could be.” And it helps that no one wants to kill a legacy.

He sits back as people start arguing again. He knows he’s right. Tony is the best choice to be the next bachelorette. The legacy, the billions, the hopeless romantic, the ability to defend himself—there’s no way they’ll decide on anyone else. It would be foolish. Tony is the best person to usher in a new era for Bachelor Nation.

And sure enough, once the discussion dies down and Alex calls for a vote, Tony is the clear winner by well over two thirds of the votes.

“Alright, Nick,” Alex says, grinning sharklike at him. “Do you want to call him and do the honors?”

Chapter Text

Once a month, Tony takes one of the Stark Industries’ jets from the facility in Malibu back to New York for what is officially called a “business meeting with the head of the company” and is actually “dinner with his parents.”

To be fair, he and his dad do actually talk a lot of business, but the whole thing was set up by his mom because she didn’t like the idea of him being so far away from her and only getting to see him twice a year at the annual shareholders meeting and Christmas, so. Monthly dinner by him taking the jet. Stark Industries has the only carbon-neutral jet in the world, anyway, so it’s not even like he’s contributing to pollution.

“Hey, J,” he says, sliding into the town car waiting for him at the private airstrip they use about an hour outside of the city.

“Master Tony,” Jarvis says, smiling at him. “What happened to your young alpha that you were meant to be bringing with you?”

Tony snorts derisively. “Fuck, don’t even get me started on that asshole.”

“Language,” Jarvis says mock-severely. Tony doesn’t take him seriously. Between the household, Jarvis’s wife is the worst swearer in the mansion. Tony learned all of the common swears from her and several made-up ones as well.

He stares out the window for a minute and then says, “Quentin just wanted an in with SI.” He drums his fingers on the windowsill.

“…Ah,” Jarvis says quietly.

“Yeah.” Tony swallows heavily. It’s not like he dated Quentin for very long but it’s not fair that this keeps happening to him. The last four alphas he’s dated in a row were all angling for a job with Stark Industries—and he gets that the job market is bad right now, but really? Is nepotism really the way to go?—and the one before that was after his fortune and the one before that was just trying to get her fifteen minutes of fame. He doesn’t know why he has such bad taste in alphas. He really does try to find decent people. Rhodey called him a trouble magnet back when they were in college, and he always denied it, but maybe that’s exactly what it is. Maybe he’s just doomed to having bad luck in love.

Jarvis seems to pick up on his bad mood about his failed dating life because he doesn’t ask any more questions about it, instead asking about Tony’s bots and his work on the arc reactor project. Tony could talk all day about his work out in California (and has, during the shareholder meetings) so he cheerfully tells him about DUM-E’s latest attempt at making an edible cup of coffee and the particle accelerator Tony built in the basement of the mansion to try to find a stable, nontoxic element for the arc reactor. Palladium is all well and good as a core for the vanity project at SI Los Angeles, but Tony has dreams of turning the miniaturized version into a medical device (once he’s actually, you know, miniaturized it), which means he needs a core that isn’t going to give their recipients heavy metal poisoning.

That’s kind of important.

“Hey, what’s Nick and company doing here?” Tony asks as they pull into the driveway of the Park Avenue mansion, spotting the black SUVs out front. Various Bachelor Nation members showing up at his parents’ house was a staple of his childhood, from Nick wanting to shoot the breeze to Pierce wanting to negotiate appearances to distraught bachelors and bachelorettes seeking advice from the oldest happy couple from the franchise, but usually there’s some kind of warning.

“I don’t know,” Jarvis says. “They arrived this morning. I believe they wanted to discuss something with your father.”

“Yeah, that’s how it always goes,” Tony hums and hops out of the car. Despite his age, Jarvis still manages to make it around the back to grab Tony’s suitcase before he can. “You know, I’m more than capable of carrying my own suitcase.”

“And put me out of a job?” Jarvis admonishes even though Howard would never fire him. Jarvis is more like family than some of Tony’s actual family. “Never. I’ll bring your bag up to your room.”

Tony shoots him a thumbs up and heads inside in a much better mood now that he’s home. The Park Avenue mansion is much more grandiose than Tony’s Malibu home, despite the Malibu mansion being built into the side of a cliff. But Tony’s mom is enamored of the early twentieth century Art Nouveau style while Tony prefers more clean-cut, modern furniture, and as a result, walking into the foyer of his childhood home has always reminded him of Kevin McAllister walking into the Plaza Hotel in Home Alone 2.

“I’m home!” he calls, voice echoing in the foyer.

To his surprise, his mom doesn’t immediately bustle out of whatever room she was greeting their guests in to say hello to him. He frowns. She makes all this fuss about him coming to see her once a month and then doesn’t even greet him once he gets there? He doesn’t want to sound like a spoiled brat but it’s not like her.

“Mom?” he calls, heading for the front parlor where his parents usually entertain guests. “Dad? Hey, I’m—what’s with the cameras?”

He blinks at the small crowd of people standing in Howard and Maria’s front parlor: Alexander Pierce, Nick Fury, Hill and Coulson, and a whole lot of camera operators, mic guys, and assistants. Tony thinks back over the last few conversations he had with his mom, trying to remember if she had said anything about a reunion this weekend. There’s always one right about this time, so that they have filler during the live season finales while the alpha bachelor is having a mental breakdown about which omega he’s going to pick. People like to know what’s going on with the first bachelor and his blushing omega bride (even though Maria Carbonell has never blushed a day in her life and everyone could just as easily catch up with them by picking up the latest C&E News). Usually, though, if his parents have filming conflicts, they either tell him about it or reschedule.

“Tony, bambino,” Maria says carefully, standing arm in arm with Howard by the display cabinet where every single rose that Howard gifted her during her time on the show has been immortalized in gold. “I think you know everyone here.”

“Yeah, of course I know—” Tony stops, looking at the room again. He does know everyone here, that much is true—most of them have been close family friends since Tony was a small child—but it’s the reason why he knows most of them that makes him pause. “This is the team behind The Bachelorette,” he realizes.

Pierce chuckles, stepping forward. “You always were a clever one,” he says, chucking Tony under the chin.

“Thank you, sir,” Tony says uneasily, biting back the urge to step away. He knows that Pierce is one of his dad’s closest friends, and usually, he trusts his dad’s judgment, but Pierce has always felt a little too oily to his omegan sense. He reminds Tony too closely of Obadiah Stane, Howard’s old business partner, and everyone knows what happened with that relationship. Besides, any alpha who insists on an omega calling them “sir” is the one least deserving of it in his mind.

Fortunately, Nick moves forward then, subtly pushing Pierce back a step as he does. Mindful of the cameras on them, Tony doesn’t shoot him a grin, but it’s a near thing. “Hey, kid. We wanted you to be the first to know: we’re bringing back The Bachelorette.”

Tony blinks. Truth be told, he’s not that surprised. He’d only been nineteen when Betty Ross died and the show was taken unceremoniously off the air, and hadn’t spared it much thought since then since he was busy with grad school and then setting up SI Los Angeles, but even he couldn’t miss the petition, now with just under thirteen million signatures. The last time Bachelor Nation saw numbers like that, it had been Howard’s “After the Final Rose” episode. They couldn’t just ignore those kinds of numbers.

“Good for you,” he states, wondering why the hell they needed cameras to tell his family that. They’re important to the franchise, sure, but not that important.

“It won’t be like the last time,” Howard rushes to reassure him.

“Right,” Nick says. “We’re being cautious. We’re adding new security measures to make sure no one gets hurt.”

“Okay,” Tony says slowly. “And you’re telling me this because…” The pieces suddenly start to fit together in his mind. Howard and Maria didn’t need to be told about the show coming back or about the added security, and neither did he, unless, of course, the cameras are there for a reason other than to catch his parents’ reaction to the news.

Well. They’re probably still there for a reaction, just not about the show’s return.

“Tony,” Pierce says, beaming at him. “We want you to be the next bachelorette.”

And there it is.

“I—I don’t know what to say,” he says, stunned.

“We’re hoping you say yes,” Pierce tells him, right as Maria reassures him, “You can say no, bambino.”

He gives her a sharp look. “Why would I say no?”

He doesn’t even realize until he says it that he’s thinking about saying yes. After everything with Quentin—after everything with all of the alphas he’s dated—there’s a part of him that finds the idea of letting someone else do the heavy lifting for once very appealing. Sure, he’ll still have to parse through thirty alphas to find the one that he thinks he can love, the one that he can see himself spending the rest of his life yet. He’s not sure that he’s ready to get married just yet, but then again, he doesn’t have to. Plenty of the franchise’s seasons have ended in them agreeing to date. He could do that instead of getting engaged.

And truth be told, he is ready to find an alpha and settle down. Tony knows what people say about him. They’re hard to miss when the words are splayed out in bright yellow across the tabloids every single week. But he’s not the playboy that they paint him as, even though it’s easier to let them think that. He wants someone to fall in love with, someone who’ll love him in return and want to share his company and quiet evenings with, not someone who’s after his money or his name. Tony is a hopeless romantic, really. It’s everyone else who isn’t.

This show can give him that. There’s the statistics, obviously—only five percent of the couples in this franchise actually make it—but Tony has grown up surrounded by the people who’ve made it work for them. He can make it work for him too. He can find his happily ever after.

His dad is blathering on about safety and security standards and worrying about if he can actually handle something like this, and that decides it. Howard has a point, Tony would be stupid not to admit that. The last bachelorette died; Tony doesn’t want to end up like her. But he doesn’t think that Howard is giving him enough credit. His dad looks at him sometimes and still sees the little boy who got his heart broken when the Stones moved back to England, but Tony isn’t that kid anymore. He’s had his heart broken a lot more times and learned from every single one of them, and he’s going to put all those lessons to use now to find the one alpha that he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

“I want to do it,” he says, cutting across whatever nonsense Howard is saying now. He loves his dad, really he does, and his dad loves him, but they’ve never agreed on anything in their entire lives. Why would they start this time?

Triumph gleams in Pierce’s eyes. “That’s the spirit, Tony,” he says. “Now—”

“But I have conditions.”

That makes Pierce pause. “Tony,” he begins, but Tony holds up a hand to stop him.

“First of all, I know this show appeals to a certain demographic, but that’s not me. If you can’t find me alphas who will respect my title and my name, then I’m out. I am a Stark, first and foremost, and I worked my fucking ass off for my doctorates. I won’t let any alpha act like their better than me just because their dick has a knot.”

Nick coughs, but when Tony glances at him, he sees that he’s hiding a smile behind his hand. Bolstered by the support, Tony turns back to Pierce.

“And secondly, I want to make sure that every alpha who comes on that show knows: I can’t give them biological children. I know some alphas care a lot about that kind of shit, so make sure they know that that’s not me.” Tony doesn’t really want to go into detail about why he can’t give any of them kids—that’s still a trauma that he’s working through himself; he doesn’t want it to go on national television. He does want kids—though maybe not for another decade, since he doesn’t need to worry about fertility issues—but they’ll have to be adopted.

Pierce gives him a hard look, but Tony returns it steadily. He grew up in the boardroom; a disgruntled producer is nothing to him, and this is something he won’t budge on. He’s not letting Pierce turn his medical issues into drama for the ratings. The Stark fortune will provide plenty of drama all by itself, despite Tony’s hopes that the producers will weed those people out first.

“Anything else?” Pierce asks eventually.

“Yeah. I know the kind of schedule you put these people through. You might be able to sell the audience on the ten-week fantasy, but the numbers don’t lie. Season finale of The Bachelor to premiere of The Bachelorette is seven weeks exactly, and that’s not even including that ‘Week One’ is only one night. You’re not doing that to me. You’re giving me the full ten weeks, and if that means you give me downtime to think about it or, hell, time to recover from Fantasy Suites instead of just shoving me into the next one, then that’s what happens—”

“Production schedules—” Pierce starts to protest, but Tony barrels over him.

“Oh, don’t give me that. I already know you’re taking Winter Games off the air. Just move Paradise to later in the year—or, you know, move my show to later in the year, and it’ll be fine.”

“You know, if you make yourself more trouble than you’re worth, then we can always pick another omega,” Pierce warns him, voice going low and growly the way alphas always do when they don’t get their way.

Tony raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “You could, but you won’t. The Bachelor only has four episodes left. You need to get this show on the road if you want to make a finale announcement. And I’m not stupid, you know. There’s a reason you’re breaking tradition and coming to me instead of choosing one of the omegas from the show.” And that reason is that they’re trading on the Starks’ good name and legacy to bring in the viewers: Howard and Maria found their happily ever after on the show; can their son do the same?

Pierce’s eyes narrow. Tony is irrationally pleased with himself. He wonders if Pierce thought he would be a pushover. They stare each other down, willing the other to break first. But, as Tony had already thought, he’s an omega who’s been dealing with asshole alphas in the boardroom for most of his adulthood. Pierce isn’t nearly as intimidating as they are.

“Fine,” Pierce bites out, breaking first. “I’ll agree to your terms. Thank you for ruining what should have been a happy announcement.”

“That’s okay.” Tony smiles beatifically. “We can just film another take.”

“Call waiting for you,” Arnie says when Steve walks through the door to the office.

“Already?” Steve asks, surprised. He’s not even late! He’s right on time, actually, just the way he always is when he’s the one in charge of picking up breakfast tacos for everyone.

Arnie shrugs. “It sounded like they’re pretty determined to get Shield Security on board.”

“Huh,” Steve muses, detouring by the breakroom to drop the tacos off. “Well, we are the best in LA.” He sticks his head out into the bullpen and shouts, “Tacos are here!”

Immediately, the breakroom is swarmed by Steve’s team, the tacos picked through so quickly that he barely has time to snatch up one of the chorizo and egg tacos before they’re all gone. He rolls his eyes and picks his way back through the crowd, pausing to pat Dernier on the back and then to ask Gabe about his kids. It’s the kind of personal touch that he learned from Phillips before the old man retired and left Steve in charge of the business he and his partner, Erskine, built together from the ground up, and it’s one that Steve feels makes him a better leader.

“Did they leave a name?” Steve asks, heading back towards his office.

“Alexander Pierce,” Arnie says, rolling his eyes. Steve knows what that look means. As an alpha, he’s rarely subjected to the kind of posturing that a particular type of alpha does any time they encounter one of the secondary genders they’ve decided are “lesser” (as though society could exist off of alphas alone). But he knows that Arnie, one of two omegas working for the firm, has to deal with it a lot. Arnie always handles it admirably, but Steve wishes there was more he could do.

“Pierce,” he muses as he shuts the door behind them. “I know that name, don’t I?”

“Bachelor Nation,” Arnie supplies, settling on the couch under the window.

“Oh yeah.” Steve has only ever watched one season of the entire franchise, back when he was dating Sharon, who loves it. She still gives Falsworth and Gabe enthusiastic retellings in the breakrooms sometimes, but Steve thought the whole thing was kind of offensive. As though anyone could really fall in love in ten weeks. The whole concept is ridiculous.

“Well, let’s see what Bachelor Nation wants with us,” he says, picking up the phone. “Mr. Pierce?”

“Finally,” a grouchy voice says on the other end. Steve raises an eyebrow. So Pierce is one of those alphas that likes to posture with anyone, huh, not just betas and omegas. “I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes.”

Steve verifies that with a glance towards Arnie, who makes a wiggling gesture with his hand. “I’m very sorry,” he says mildly, “but our normal business hours are—”

“I don’t care about your normal business hours. This is The Bachelorette we’re talking about!”

Steve pauses. Even under the rock he lives beneath, he knows what happened the last time that show was airing. It was a horrible tragedy, and he would never have expected that they would bring it back. But then, he doesn’t really know a lot about Hollywood. Maybe it’s ancient news to them. Or maybe they just don’t care about how tacky it is. Pieces of the puzzle are starting to click into place as he thinks about what this show would want with a security firm.

“And you’re seeking to hire my team for your show?” he confirms.

“Of course I am,” Pierce snaps. “It was the only way I could get anyone to agree to bring it back, wasn’t it?”

Steve is both unsurprised and unimpressed to hear that Pierce wouldn’t have bothered himself with anyone’s safety if he hadn’t been forced to. He knows Pierce’s type. Hell, he has to see plenty of them at events, hired out by other security firms. Hydra is particularly well known for cutting corners with people’s safety.

“Right,” he says slowly. “How many of my team are you looking to hire on?”

“All of them,” Pierce says immediately, turning on a dime to jovial now that Steve is listening to him. “Pull them from other jobs if you have to. I’ll pay you three times your going rate.”

Steve blinks. People who cut corners on bodyguards don’t usually offer to pay three times their rate. He supposes that Pierce must really be desperate to get this show back up and running. He shoots Arnie a look. Arnie’s eyebrows have risen nearly to his hairline; any higher and they’ll disappear. Steve doesn’t normally pull people from other jobs, but he can’t deny that thrice the pay is an appealing offer.

“Here’s the thing,” Pierce says, apparently taking his silence for agreement. “Nick Fury, you know, the host of the show, is demanding that one of the contestants on the show be one of your bodyguards. You know, as an undercover thing.”

“Mr. Pierce, my team isn’t trained in stealth—”

“But you can make it work, can’t you?” Pierce asks, back to impatient.

The thing is, they can. None of the jobs he currently has people on are high priority and all of them can be taken care of in the next week or so. And while it’s not like Shield Security is in dire financial straits, three times their normal pay still isn’t something that he can really give up just because he doesn’t like the boss or the company they’ll be working for.

“We can, yes,” he says reluctantly.

Arnie smirks at him and scribbles something down on the tablet he’s using to take notes. He flips it around to show it to Steve: You’ll be the one undercover.

Steve starts to open his mouth to protest, only to shut it again when he realizes damn, Arnie’s right. Arnie and Sharon are both omegas, so that lets both of them out. Peggy isn’t attracted to omegas or a good enough actress to fake it. Dum Dum, Morita, and Gabe are all mated, and Dernier and Falsworth are in committed long-term relationships, which normally wouldn’t be an issue, but Steve knows from Sharon just what’ll happen if it’s uncovered that they’re seeing someone else while they’re on the show, if they’re not there for “the right reasons” as they make such a big deal over (although arguably, being there just as a bodyguard isn’t the right reason either).

They need someone who is an alpha, attracted to omegas, and isn’t currently dating anyone.

Which means they need Steve.

Fuck, he swears inside his head. Well, looks like he’ll be getting to put that old advice from Phillips into play—never fall in love with a client. He snorts to himself. Yeah, like that’ll be hard. No one actually falls in love in ten weeks; it’s the entire reason none of those couples stay together long enough to even make it to the last episode.

“Mr. Pierce, we’ll do it,” he says out loud.

“Excellent!” Pierce exclaims. “You and your team don’t need to worry about a thing; we’ll make all the necessary arrangements. I’ll just need to know soon who’ll be taking the place of the contestant, preferably before the end of tomorrow, but I’ll leave you to talk things over with your team. I’ll have Coulson fax you contracts by the end of the day. Now, do you have any questions for me?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Who’s the bachelorette?”

Chapter Text

Tony has two filming obligations before the show even starts: the live season finale of The Bachelor, where Nick will announce the return of The Bachelorette and introduce Tony on stage, and then a pre-filmed “Meet Tony” segment that’ll air at the end of the pre-season premiere. The “Meet Tony” segment is set to be filmed a week before they start shooting proper, and despite being well aware of that, Tony is still caught off guard when JARVIS alerts him that he has visitors while he’s in the middle of re-strutting DUM-E.

“Uh, hi,” he says when he opens the door in a holey tank top and ratty sweatpants.

“Hi,” Nick says, looking amused. “You don’t look ready.”

“Yeah, no,” Tony agrees. “I, uh, I was in the middle of a project.”

“Ah, yes, the famous workshop,” Nick says. “Any chance we’ll get to look inside today?”

Tony laughs, Nick’s dry expectation putting him at ease. “Not a chance. SI’s confidentiality agreements are a bi—pain,” he amends halfway through the word. The show is pretty good about bleeping out any egregious swearing, but he doesn’t need to make the editors’ jobs harder on them. “Anyway, come on in. Give me like twenty minutes? And I’ll get all cleaned up and ready to go.”

“Sounds good,” Nick says. “Are we taking the Audi in the driveway?”

“Yeah,” Tony calls over his shoulder as he starts back towards his bedroom. The garage is located in the workshop, and obviously, he won’t let the cameras in there, so he’d pulled the Audi into the driveway so they can wire it up. “Don’t touch my stuff. You don’t have clearance for most of it.”

He fully anticipates that, just to add some humor to the segment, Nick will, in fact, try to poke around the house. And sure enough, while Tony’s in the middle of shampooing his hair, JARVIS brings up a screen on the shower wall to let him watch as Nick and the production team jump about a foot in the air when JARVIS informs them they’re not authorized to enter that area. He snickers.

Nick and company are innocently waiting for him on the couches when he’s finished getting ready, acting like they’d never tried to snoop. Tony lets them have that fantasy. It’ll make for good TV to let the audience wonder if the alarm alerted him too.

Instead, he announces “Ta-da!” and twirls, hands spread wide, as Nick whistles.

“Kid, you look good,” Nick says, and Tony beams at him.

“Yeah? You think so?” Nick is more like an uncle to him than the host of a beloved TV franchise, and his opinion means a lot. Not that Tony thinks he looks bad. He knows he looks good—dark jeans, a dark blue button-up, and a black leather jacket that accentuates his waist… well, he’s never seen a need for modesty when he’s this attractive. But it’s nice to have that validation.

“Those alphas are going to be falling all over you.”

Tony grins. “Excellent.”

Nick pats the seat on the couch next to him, and Tony sinks into it, tucking one leg underneath him. “Alright, let’s talk. Normally, we do this segment to get everyone used to the camera. Obviously, our bachelors, bachelorums, and bachelorettes have been on camera before, but there’s a difference between having the camera on you when you’re around the bachelor and being the bachelorette and having it on you all the time.” He gives Tony an amused look. “I don’t think we have to worry about that with you.”

Tony nods. This won’t even be the first time that he’s in front of Bachelor Nation cameras. Back when he was nineteen, when they had to cancel the planned Bachelorette season three weeks before it aired, his parents had agreed to do a vow renewal for their twentieth anniversary (The Bachelor: Happily Ever After) that was hastily put together and aired for the season time slot instead. Tony had still been living at home at the time in between his first and second doctorates, and he’d made more than a few appearances on the miniseries.

“So I want to use this time to get to know the you behind the glitz and glamour. Who is Tony when he’s not being Tony Stark? Opening the door in your inventing clothes was a good start, but I want to do more. Most people can’t even wrap their heads around the kind of money you’ll inherit, let alone what you already have—I recognize that shirt, that’s a two thousand dollar shirt, and that’s not something that most people will ever experience in their life, let alone on the daily basis that you do. So let’s bring you back down to earth. You up for it?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, smiling. “Let’s do it.”

“Alright,” Nick says agreeably. “In that case—” His smile switches from something genuine to the practiced press smile that Tony knows from the show. He almost responds in turn, but he’s supposed to be genuine, he reminds himself. He keeps his own smile relaxed and real. The cameras have been rolling this entire time, but suddenly, they feel so much more present. “So, Tony, you’re the bachelorette. How do you feel?”

“It’s been surreal,” Tony admits. “Sometimes, I’m just going about my day and then I remember that in a few weeks, I’m going to be dating thirty alphas, and it makes me feel a little giddy.”

“Giddy?” Nick encourages.

“Yeah. I haven’t always had the best luck with alphas, but I’m hopeful, you know, that I’ll find The One while I’m on the show.”

“Just think, in eleven weeks, you could be engaged.”

“I know,” Tony says, drawing out the last word in excitement. Truthfully, if he does wind up with an engagement, then he’s hoping for a long one, where he’ll be able to get to know the person he’s chosen better. He can admit that the criticisms about the show—the rushed production schedule, the likelihood of falling in love in ten weeks—they’re all valid, but he grew up in this world. He also knows that it can work, if they’re willing to put in the effort.

“Are you nervous?”

“Of course I’m nervous,” Tony says with a snort. “I could be meeting my alpha in a week.” He doesn’t give voice to what has him really nervous: what if they don’t like him? It’s a possibility. There’s a lot of work that goes into making sure the bachelorette will be compatible with their alphas, at least on paper, but Tony knows better than anyone that he has a way of running people off with just one impression. It terrifies him that that might happen to him, that he might go to his first rose ceremony and all the alphas will walk out en masse.

But he doesn’t say that. No one will believe that he, Tony Stark, who always has a new alpha on his arm, who heads R&D for the largest tech company in the world, who stands to inherit billions… no one will believe that he’s scared no one will like him.

“And, I mean, we’re breaking tradition,” he continues. “I’m not coming from the latest season of The Bachelor. I’m not a fan favorite. No one’s had a chance to get attached to me before my season even starts.”

“I think you’re underselling yourself there,” Nick says, laying his hand over Tony’s on his knee. It’s startling for a moment—Nick isn’t usually a very physically demonstrative guy—but then he reminds himself that it’s for the cameras. Nick Fury, the host of the Bachelor franchise, isn’t the same guy as Uncle Nick.

Whew. That’ll take some getting used to.

“Oh, I am, am I?” Tony asks, looking at him.

“Yeah. A lot of these people watched you grow up,” Nick reminds him. “They’ll be rooting for you just as much as they would for any other bachelorette.”

Normally, Tony wouldn’t even dare, but he’s feeling emboldened by the fact that this is all for the cameras, so he leans against Nick’s side, taking comfort from him. It’s a nice reminder, that a pretty significant portion of the fans have been with his family since his parents’ very first date. He gets so much hate from the rest of the world about his inability to hold onto an alpha that sometimes it’s hard to remember that there’s an entire group of people who want to see him find love just like his parents did.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

Nick presses back against him. “Anytime, kid,” he replies.

Stark’s pre-season interview plays in the background while Steve packs. He’s got a difficult task ahead of him—making sure that he manages to stay on the show long enough to get a feeling for the other alphas—so he’d requested access to Stark’s interviews, both when Stark found out he would be the next bachelorette and his “Meet Tony” thing with Nick Fury. To Steve’s irritation, they’d been the edited versions that the public will see, not the raw footage, but at least he’d gotten something.

Pierce hadn’t wanted to give him the footage at all, claiming that if Steve were any good at his job, he’d be able to handle Stark with no problem, whether or not he prepared for it. Fury, who has some kind of connection to the family from what Steve heard from Sharon, is the one who had insisted that Steve get the interviews.

He glances up at the TV to see Stark and Fury talking to Stark’s two best friends in a diner and shakes his head. Just a couple days ago, he would have said that he knows Tony Stark. How could he not? Stark’s been splashed across the tabloids since the moment he turned eighteen, and the only reason they waited that long is because his dad threatened to sue big time if they stalked his underage son. Stark is a playboy, incapable of settling down with one single alpha. After watching footage of Emil Blonsky and how dangerously attached he got to Betty Ross, Steve would be willing to put money on Stark’s personality being the exact reason they chose him. No one’s going to go into this thinking that they’re actually getting forever out of him.

But—he looks at the twist of Stark’s mouth when Colonel Rhodes makes a comment about the last alpha Stark dated. Steve knows that expression on his face: loneliness, pure and simple. Tony Stark might have been chosen because the production team thought no one would get attached to him, but he’s clearly hoping for a happy ending out of this.

Steve just hopes that he can give it to him.

Not romantically, of course. He’s not there for that—and he’s a good bodyguard. He’s never once had to deal with unwanted attachments. No, he just hopes he can make sure that everyone there is there for Stark. It seems like the least he can do.

“Hey,” he hears and glances over his shoulder to see Sharon step into the room.

He sighs. “One of these days I’ll remember to get your key back from you.”

“And when that happens, I’ll make sure to have a duplicate made,” she retorts. Her gaze drifts over his shoulder to the TV. “You’re still watching that?”

“Have to get to know him somehow.”

“You know, most people would rely on this fantastic process that they’re participating in so they can get to know someone. You might have heard of it; it’s called ‘dating.’”

“And if I were any good at first impressions, I would do just that,” he agrees. Sharon winces and inclines her head in a ‘point taken’ way. “I’m not doing anyone any good if I get kicked off Night One.”

“Week One,” Sharon corrects him.

Steve frowns. “But the first rose ceremony is at the end of the first night.”

“Yeah, but they sell you on the whole fantasy that there’s an entire week in between that night and when the dates start. Plus—” She taps the binder next to Steve’s suitcase—“didn’t you read this? You’re not even getting the fantasy. You’re actually getting an entire week. Stark’s insistence, supposedly.”

“How do you already know all the gossip?” Steve asks amazedly.

She grins wolfishly at him. “It helps that I’ve already been to the mansion.”

“Oh, I’ll bet that was the highlight of your day.”

“It absolutely was,” she says dreamily. “The boys have already cased out the entire place. They’ve got you in the room closest to the exterior wall, and it’s not visible from any of the other alphas’ rooms, so if you need to get out at any point—whether you’re coming to talk to us or you just need to get away for a few minutes—no one will see you leave.”

Steve nods and notes that as a possible entry point as well.

Sharon frowns down at his suitcase. “This seems kind of light for two and a half months.”

“We’re styled by the production team,” Steve says. “They have a partnership with one of the designers or something.”

“Really?” Sharon asks, intrigued. “But they don’t provide everything?”

“Nah, I’ve still got to bring casual stuff for the mansion when I’m not on a date, all my own underwear, socks, and any pajamas, anything like swimsuits or something to work out in, and anything I want to entertain myself.”

“But everything you wear on dates, that’s all styled?”

“Yep.”

“Huh. So what are you going to wear on the first night?”

“I’m not telling you,” he says firmly. She’ll tease him about being too bold if he admits that he’s going to wear red. It’s a deep red, almost maroon, but still. He’d chosen it because Stark had said in his “Meet Tony” thing that red is his favorite color, so Steve is hoping it’ll endear him to him, but he still knows that it’s a bold choice and he doesn’t want to wind up second guessing himself because Sharon can’t keep her mouth shut.

“You’re no fun,” she pouts.

“Yeah, well, hopefully, Stark thinks otherwise,” Steve sighs.

“Welcome back to our live finale!” Nick exclaims over the cheering. “What a great night it’s been; we’re so happy you could join us for this incredible two-night event. We just wrapped things up with our besotted couple, Dane and Sersi, but we have one last surprise for you.”

Tony paces backstage, inexplicably nervous again. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. Everyone has reassured him that the fans will love him, from his parents to Nick to Rhodey, and he trusts their opinions more than he trusts his own. But even so, he can’t help but feel like the fans are going to be disappointed when they see him. Alex hasn’t addressed the petition and no one on the production team has leaked the news, but that hasn’t stopped rumors from forming about if The Bachelorette will be returning and who they’ll choose from The Bachelor to be the new bachelorette. Obviously, Tony’s name wasn’t tossed into the ring or else he wouldn’t be so nervous—or maybe he would be; he’s sure that if someone had suggested him, they would have been laughed off of Twitter.

“You spoke, and we listened,” Nick continues. “So it is my honor to announce that, after a five-year hiatus, The Bachelorette will be returning to television on June 1^st.”

Stunned silence falls across the studio. Apparently, no one in the audience had really believed that the petition would actually work. But it’s only for a moment before wild cheering breaks out, even louder than before. Tony actually feels a little bad for Dane and Sersi, even though they’re not even in the studio anymore, already on their way to an interview with Jimmy Fallon. It’s gotta be rough knowing that an announcement for an entirely different show was greeted with more furor than your engagement on a night that should have been all about you.

“And to welcome The Bachelorette back to your screens, we’ve chosen for our next bachelorette someone who you all know very well. Bachelor Nation, you watched his parents fall in love, you watched him grow up, and you’ve watched him struggle with his own journey to love. It’s time for our next bachelorette to take his post. Alphas, omegas, and betas, let’s welcome to the stage, Tony Stark.”

Tony feels like his feet have been glued to the floor, even as the cheering grows even louder. Apparently, no one else has that issue though, because someone gives him a little shove, just enough to get him moving. He swallows his nerves, summons up the famous Stark iron resolve, and walks out onto that stage with his head held high, heels on his boots clicking under his steps.

Nick stands to greet him, and Tony fixes a bright smile on his face that he only half-feels. He wants to be here, he does, but he’s suddenly terrified that it won’t work out. Nick takes his hand and spins him out, moving off to the side to give him the spotlight.

Tony catches a glimpse of himself on one of the TVs in the studio and relaxes. He looks damn good. Randi Rahm’s styles can be kind of hit or miss with male omegas, but she’d done an incredible job on his royal blue corset and black silk jumpsuit. Under the stage lights, the silver thread lining the corset shimmer and gleam, giving him a powerful, almost sexy aura. But the pleased, almost embarrassed flush to his face is the sweetness that humanizes him, exactly what Nick had been hoping for when they’d filmed their interview earlier that week.

“I love you, Tony!” someone from the audience shouts as he takes his seat.

He laughs and quips, “Now, why couldn’t she be on my show, huh?”

Nick smiles at him and says, “Oh, don’t worry, I think the alphas we found for you will feel exactly the same way. So, you are the bachelorette. Congratulations, by the way!”

“Thanks!” Tony enthuses, smile growing a little bigger when the audience cheers for him all over again.

“How do you feel?”

Before the show started, he was carefully coached on what not to say, so he doesn’t say that he’s terrified this won’t work out and he’ll be stuck parsing through who actually loves him and who wants his fortune forever. Instead, he simply says, “So much, but really, I’m grateful that you and Alex thought of me for this opportunity. I know what a big deal it is to be bringing this show back, and it means so much to me that you wanted me to be here.”

“Now, your dad was the first bachelor when this show started airing—”

“Yep, all the way back in 1997,” Tony agrees, grinning when Nick groans.

“Don’t remind me, kid. You’ll make me feel old,” Nick grouses. “How do your parents feel about you coming on the show now?”

“They’re very supportive of me,” Tony says, which, now that his parents have seen all the security measures the production crew are putting into place, is even the truth. “And they’re very happy for me. I mean, I know better than most that it’s absolutely possible to meet your soulmate on a dating show. I just have to call my parents up and see it.”

“Speaking of your parents,” Nick begins, and Tony is suddenly terrified that his parents are actually here, but then he continues, “they were there when you received the news that you would be the next bachelorette. I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to share that moment with everybody how you found out. It was pretty sweet.”

Tony manages not to snicker, but it’s a close thing. “Yeah, it was.”

“Let’s take a look.”

The version that they show on the screen is actually the fourth take they took, and definitely not the first take when Tony laid down his stipulations for agreeing to go on the show. But all three Starks have spent a lifetime in front of the camera, and their surprise still looks genuine enough that Tony doubts anyone who doesn’t know them would be able to tell that this wasn’t actually their first time hearing it.

The clip ends, returning to the red logo and rose petals against a white background as the crowd applauds. Tony turns his attention back to Nick, squirming a little on the uncomfortable couch. He can’t imagine having to sit here for two full hours at the end of the season. No wonder Nick always looks like he bit into a lemon when he doesn’t have a close up.

“You look really happy there at the end,” Nick observes.

“I felt really happy,” Tony says, feeling a little awkward talking about his feelings so frankly, but this is how these shows always go. People spend a lot of time being more emotionally open than Tony has ever seen people be in their real lives.

“You realized that your life was about to change, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “And I never saw it coming, let alone that you’d come tell me in person.”

“But you feel ready, don’t you? To find love and get married?”

Well, maybe not the get married part. He’s still hoping that, if his season ends with an engagement, it’ll be a long one. But ready to find his one? The person he’ll spend forever with? Yeah, he’s ready for that.

“Yeah,” he says again. “I think, uh, the entire world knows that I haven’t had the best luck in love so far—” He chuckles awkwardly—”but I believe that it can happen on this show, and I believe that I’ll be lucky enough to find it.”

There’s a gleam in Nick’s eyes that Tony recognizes from his childhood as his Challenge Face^TM, the one that he trotted out for what should have been benign things—like getting Tony to eat his veggies. Or finding the best route for trick-or-treating. Or passing his driver’s test.

“So, you think you’re ready to be the bachelorette,” he states, and oh yeah, Tony knows that tone. “How about we get started right now?”

The smile slides right off of Tony’s face. “What?”

“Alphas, come on out!” Nick calls.

“What?”

“Tony, come on, stand up for a second,” Nick urges him, giving Tony his hand to help him up, which he definitely doesn’t need, but kind of appreciates anyway because there are five, very attractive alphas coming out onto the stage, and oh. He remembers seeing them milling around backstage, kind of watching him, but he’d just assumed they were assistants.

“Nick, I don’t know how to do this yet,” he says more nervously than he means to. A bunch of actual assistants are removing the couches they’d just been sitting on, replacing them with a backdrop of the mansion and some fake greenery and fairy lights. “You’re going to help me, right?”

“Tony, it’s literally just a meet-and-greet,” Nick says. That asshole is absolutely laughing at him on the inside. “You don’t need my help. Are you ready for this?”

“No!”

Nick gives him a look that reminds him he kind of has to be ready for this because he’s meeting them all tomorrow anyway.

“I guess I’m going to be,” he amends.

“Better,” Nick says dryly. “Obviously, we can’t run to the mansion. This is live TV. So we brought the mansion to you.” He looks over his shoulder. “It kind of looks like it. If you squint.”

“Well, you were the pirate when you took me trick-or-treating, eyepatch and all, so you’d know all about squinting,” Tony says, feeling slightly hysterical. He thought he’d have more time than this to prepare for meeting his potential future spouse. He is definitely not ready, no matter what words are coming out of his mouth.

Nick says smoothly, “And I’ll be the pirate when I take your kids trick-or-treating too. So you’re going to meet your first five alphas. Is there anything in particular that you’re looking for?”

“Um, honesty?” he says off the top of his head, thinking about all the alphas he’s dated who didn’t really want him, just access to his dad. But that’s probably not what anyone wants to hear. “Someone I can hold a conversation with? Maybe that initial spark?”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Tony snorts. “Not even a little bit.” Even his parents didn’t experience love at first sight. Maria had actually nearly been cut from the show multiple times before her first one-on-one with Howard, which is the actual moment when Howard realized the incredible woman sitting right in front of him.

“Well then, sounds like our alphas have got their work cut out for them,” Nick says. “So I’ll leave you now, let you get to know them a little better.”

“Please don’t leave me,” Tony whispers as Nick cruelly abandons him. But he doesn’t have time to completely panic because something that sounds vaguely like Rachmaninoff is starting to play over the speakers and a beautiful woman in a black midi dress with red hair cascading over her shoulders is stepping forward out of the lineup of alphas.

“Hi,” he says nervously.

“Hi,” the woman says. She has a much deeper voice than Tony would have expected from a woman of her petite stature, alpha or not, bringing to mind smokey nights and silk boudoirs. “You are absolutely lovely.”

“Thank you,” he says, the compliment putting him at ease. Does that make him shallow? “I’m Tony.”

“I’m Natasha,” she replies. She takes his hands in hers and lifts both of them to her mouth to kiss the backs. “I wanted you to know that I don’t believe you can fall in love in ten weeks, but you are the only person I would ever think it could be possible for.”

“Oh!” he exclaims. “Thank you.” Fuck, how lame is that? Is that seriously the only thing he can say?

“Now that I’m here, holding your hands, it feels very right to me. I’m looking forward to getting to know you deeper and going on this journey with you.”

“I’m looking forward to getting to know you too,” he manages to say, giddy with how well this is going. Nick was right, this isn’t so bad.

Natasha steps away from him and addresses the audience, “Give it up for the next bachelorette!” Over the applause, she adds, “Doesn’t he look incredible?”

She hugs him and returns to her place in line as another alpha steps forward. This one is a man in, well, to be completely honest, it’s a very basic black suit. But he wears it well, and really, who’s looking at his suit when he has such immaculate facial hair? Definitely not Tony, who’s been thinking about growing out a beard himself and kind of wants to ask him how long it took.

“Hi!” Tony says cheerfully, much more at ease now that he has one alpha under his belt.

“Hello,” the alpha says, and oh, that’s two alphas with gorgeous, deep voices. Tony shivers just a little at the hint of a growl in his voice. “You look beautiful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Tony teases. “I’m Tony.”

“Stephen,” the alpha introduces himself. He produces a bright pink rose from inside his suit jacket and presents it to Tony. “I know it usually happens the other way around, but I wanted you to know that as long as you choose me, I will choose you too.”

Touched, Tony accepts the rose, twirling it between his fingers as he offers Stephen a hug. “Thank you so much,” he murmurs, knowing the microphones will pick it up.

The third alpha is a stately brunette in a slinky red dress who, Tony realizes when she approaches him, is actually several inches taller than him. This isn’t something that has ever bothered him. There are, of course, plenty of men out there who don’t want to date women taller than them, regardless of anyone’s secondary gender (which Tony finds ridiculous; it’s just science that omegas, even male omegas, are shorter than alphas), but he isn’t one of them. He’s just surprised that the casting director of a traditionally conservative show would do something like that.

Then he realizes that he actually knows her—or at least, he knows her face: Indries Moomji, a supermodel almost as famous as either of the Hadids. And that makes more sense. Clearly, Pierce is hoping to get some drama out of having two celebrities on the show.

“Hello,” she says airily, leaning down to kiss his cheeks. “You look beautiful.”

“Not as gorgeous as you,” he laughs. He feels a little outshone by her, but it’s okay, he reasons with himself. She’s a literal supermodel. He can deal with feeling outshone.

“My name is Indries,” she introduces, as though she was just one of the twenty-nine other alphas he’ll meet and not probably the most famous one of the bunch. She holds up the full champagne glasses she’s holding in her hands. “I wanted to do a toast—your first of many on this show.”

“Alright,” he says, all game for it. He takes the champagne glass that she offers him, hands feeling a little slippery with nerves.

“Cheers,” she says, holding her glass aloft, “to the start of a wonderful beginning and an amazing journey for us to get to know each other better and to us choosing each other every single day.” It’s a little presumptuous maybe, but Tony doesn’t mind. This entire show is about being presumptuous; he can forgive Indries for assuming she’ll make it longer than the first rose ceremony.

“Cheers,” he says and taps his glass against hers before taking a sip. It’s a good bottle, he can tell that at least, though he doesn’t drink enough champagne to be able to tell which from just one sip. “You did a great job.”

“Thank you,” she says and sweeps off stage.

Before the next alpha can step out, Nick appears from out of nowhere. “You’re doing great,” he says. “I’ll take that.”

“Aw,” Tony plays along as Nick takes his champagne away. He’s not really cut up about it—too nervous that he’ll drop it to want to hold it for the rest of the time—but it’ll look good on the show, especially when Nick follows it up by downing half the glass in one go.

Nick disappears again, just in time for the next alpha to take his place on the stage. This alpha is big, in a slate grey suit that stretches across impossibly broad shoulders. His thick blond hair is pulled back in a ponytail, framing gorgeous blue eyes and pink lips that had to have been played up with makeup because Tony can’t imagine anyone having a mouth that pretty.

“Hi,” he says, suddenly feeling very small. Tony is tall for an omega, but this guy’s got an entire head on him, and he feels like he could just be tucked right up against him.

“Hello,” the alpha says in a vaguely European accent that Tony can’t quite pick up on, and they’re back to the deep rumbly voices that make him shiver. “I am honored to meet you. My name is Thor.”

“Like the god of thunder,” Tony says, recalling his Norse mythology (Rhodey took a course in college because the TA was hot, and Tony helped him study).

“And fertility,” Thor says, winking broadly at him.

Tony has met actual escorts, trained in the art of seduction, who didn’t make him blush as hard as Thor’s blatant insinuation does. He can’t stop the giggle that escapes him, especially when Thor lifts his hand to kiss the back of it. Natasha had done the same thing, but there’s just… something about Thor and the way he makes Tony feel.

Still, he can’t go too easy on him, so he teases, “You’re a shameless flirt.”

“Indeed, I am,” Thor agrees easily.

Tony raises an eyebrow. “I like the way you talk.” It’s a little formal for this day and age, but it just suits Thor. He doesn’t know what it is, but it feels right.

“My thanks,” Thor says and actually bows. “Before I leave you, I would like to take another of your firsts.”

“My… oh! Like my first rose, my first toast, my first…?”

“Kiss,” Thor says firmly. Before Tony can fully process that, Thor has wrapped his arm around Tony’s waist, bent him backwards over it, and kissed him soundly. Vaguely, Tony can hear the audience whooping for them—actually, that might be the fireworks going off inside his head because holy fuck, the man can kiss.

Tony’s head is spinning by the time Thor puts him right again, and he can’t even complain about the liberties taken because seriously, that was the best kiss he’s ever had. Talk about a first impression!

He’s not sure how the last alpha could possibly beat Thor’s introduction—she’s beautiful, but not like literal supermodel Indries Moomji; her dress is simple in comparison to Natasha’s gown; and she doesn’t have another first to pull out like Stephen or Thor. But this doesn’t seem to bother her at all. In fact, she doesn’t even bother walking toward him, just steps aside and—

Holy shit.

And lets a small boy in Spider-Man pajamas approach him instead.

“Oh my god,” he breathes and falls to his knees so he can be on the kid’s level.

“Hi!” the kid chirps. “I’m Peter.”

“Hi, Peter,” Tony says, physically fighting with himself to not just kidnap this child and run off with him. He’s seriously the most adorable child Tony has ever seen.

“That’s my Aunt May,” Peter says, pointing over his shoulder at his aunt. “She says to tell you that you’re the most beautiful omega she’s ever seen, and, um, she hopes that I don’t scare you off.” Judging by the face palm that Aunt May does in the background, Peter was supposed to say something else, but the kid’s so cute that Tony is just charmed instead of scared off.

“Well, you can tell her that I’m definitely not scared off by you,” he tells Peter. “And that I think she’s pretty great too.”

“Yippee!” Peter shouts and skips back to May, leaving Tony’s heart in a puddle on the floor.

Returning to the stage, Nick says, “Was that a cute kid or what? So, Tony, how did you like meeting your alphas?”

“That was great!” Tony says, feeling a lot more at ease now that he’s gotten the first five introductions out of the way. Tomorrow, when he meets the rest, he feels much more confident that he can do this, that he won’t make a fool out of himself, and that no one will be disappointed he’s the bachelorette.

“You’re happy with them?”

“Yeah, absolutely. I mean, I’d give out a rose right now if that was something I could do.”

“Oh really?” Nick asks, that gleam back in his eyes. Tony has the sudden feeling that he’s played right into Nick’s hands.

“I mean, I was joking, but if you’re going to let me?”

“There are no rules,” Nick tells him, which really means that they’ll do anything to get good ratings for the return of The Bachelorette. “If you feel ready to give out a rose, then that’s exactly what we’ll do. I mean, we’re not sending anyone home tonight, are we?”

“No!” Tony says immediately. That wouldn’t be fair to anyone to send them home before the season even starts. And he liked all of them, even if he thinks that maybe some of the introductions weren’t as impressive as the others.

“Great! Guys, Tony’s gonna give out his first rose just as soon as we come back.”

From the way assistants immediately start bringing out the podium and the rose table and a single rose, Tony has the feeling that they were definitely prepared for something like this. He’d be willing to bet that if he hadn’t said something, Nick would have straight up asked him if he was ready to give out a rose and then gone from there until he’d gotten Tony to agree to it. He can’t even be mad about how neatly he played into their hands. It was a masterful plan, and it makes for excellent TV. Besides, it takes some of the pressure off of him to choose tomorrow if he already has two safeties.

The alphas shuffle forward to stand in a line closer to the stage rather than right under the screen. Tony’s pleased to see that Natasha, Thor, and May are already making friends with each other, busily discussing something that he can’t hear. It takes him a moment to spot Peter sitting right in the front row of the audience, but those red and blue pajamas are hard to miss. Peter waves brightly at him, and Tony can’t resist waving back at him. Peter really is such a cute kid.

“Counting down from 10,” Maria says. Tony returns his attention to Nick. “5… 3, 2, 1—” She points at them.

“Welcome back, Bachelor Nation!” Nick says. “I’m here with our newest bachelorette, Tony Stark. His journey has already begun; he’s just finished meeting his first five alphas. What do you think?”

“They were pretty great,” Tony says.

Nick winces theatrically. “That’s a downgrade from what you were saying before the break.” He looks over at the alphas. “You’ll have to step it up tomorrow.” He turns back to Tony. “But it wasn’t enough for you to just start your journey. Like everyone who’s watched the reunions over the years knows, you’re a pretty charge-forward kind of guy, so you’ve decided that you’re already ready to hand out a rose. There are no rules, so welcome to your first rose ceremony.”

Tony gives out a little cheer along with the rest of the audience.

“We’ve never done this before,” Nick continues, “so it could be a complete disaster—”

“Don’t say that, Nicky, it’ll be great.”

“Don’t call me Nicky.”

“Got it, Uncle Nick-Nick.”

Nick sighs, but that’s his “I’m secretly amused but can’t let you know it” sigh. He shakes his head, otherwise ignoring Tony’s antics, and gestures to the alphas. “Usually, at the end of a rose ceremony, there’s only one to hand out and the rest of you would be going home. Tony doesn’t want to send you home tonight, though, he doesn’t think that’s fair. So you’ll still be going to the mansion on Night One. Kind of takes the pressure off a little bit.”

Someone says, “That’s a relief.”

“Tony, do you think you know what you’re going to do with this first rose?” Nick asks.

“Yeah, I do,” Tony says. It’s really no different from the first impression rose, and while everyone here made a good impression on him, there’s only one alpha who made him blush and giggle like he was losing his virginity on prom night.

“You’re a pretty nontraditional bachelorette,” Nick presses. “You’ve never been to a rose ceremony before. Do you even know how to hand out a rose?”

“It’s pretty self-explanatory, isn’t it?” Tony asks. “You take the rose, you ask them if they’ll accept it, and then you pin it to their clothes, right?”

“Alright, you’re ready,” Nick says, smiling at him. “But something doesn’t feel ready just yet. Johnson, can I get a little mood music?” Soft music starts to play—the rose ceremony music, Tony recognizes. “Watney, the lights?” The lights dim and take on a slightly bluer tone. “Alphas, this is—the only rose tonight—” Everyone laughs at the bastardization of the familiar phrase—“Tony, when you’re ready.” He leaves the stage.

Tony picks up the rose as he turns to the alphas, twirling it between his fingers.

“Thank you so much for coming out here tonight,” he says. “I’m sure there are other things you’d rather be doing tonight—”

“Packing,” May says.

“Packing,” Natasha agrees.

“…Packing,” Stephen finishes, drawing another chuckle from the audience.

“Packing’s important too!” Tony jokes. “I can’t wait to see you all again at the mansion and begin this journey together, but I do only have one rose tonight. And I want to give it to someone who really showed who they were tonight and impressed me with how open they were. So. Thor—”

Thor beams broadly at him while he steps forward out of the lineup. People are applauding for them, but just like with that kiss, Tony doesn’t pay them any attention.

“Thor,” he says, “will you accept this rose?”

“I would be honored to,” Thor says graciously.

Tony has been practicing how to pin the roses to jacket lapels and gowns for the last month, so he doesn’t fumble even once as he pins the rose to Thor’s suit. He wonders how many viewers will assume that he knows how to do this because of his family and not because he practiced obsessively. As soon as he’s finished, Thor sweeps him into a tight hug, not letting him down until they hear the music switch to something jauntier.

“Congratulations, Thor,” Nick says, walking up behind them. “And congratulations to our new bachelorette! I can’t wait to be a part of this journey with you. To our viewers, you can catch the season premiere of The Bachelorette’s return on June 1^st right here on ABC. And congratulations again to Dane and Sersi; you can catch them on Jimmy Fallon later tonight. I can’t wait to hear what Jimmy asks them. To our studio audience, thank you, and to all you Bachelor Nation fans, we couldn’t do this without you. Thank you, and good night!”

Chapter Text

The Bachelor mansion is a sprawling three-story, twenty-four bed, twenty-five and a half bath monstrosity that sits just about thirty minutes away from Malibu, a little further north and nestled right in the hill country. In fact, it’s closer to Tony’s home than it is to his hotel room—they’ll actually drive right by it on his way home after the rose ceremonies—though he knows that they use the thirty-minute drive for confessionals from him.

Tony emerges from the towncar provided for him out onto the driveway, which they’re already working on hosing down to make it glimmer under the spotlights during Tony’s introductions. Everywhere he looks, people are bustling around, adding fake roses onto the rosebushes lining the driveway and pool, setting up the spotlights, discussing weak points. No one seems to have noticed him yet, and with no idea where he’s supposed to go, he heads for the bodyguard team. They’re new hires, so Tony doesn’t know any of them yet like he knows just about everyone else, and he wants to at least introduce himself.

“Hi,” he says, heading over. He jams his hands in his pockets. “I’m Tony.”

For a second, none of them say anything, just stare blankly at him. Although, the pretty blonde’s stare seems more amazed than blank.

“You are the guard detail, right?” he checks when there’s still more silence.

Someone elbows the blonde in the front. “Oof,” she grumbles and throws an irritated glare over her shoulder. “Yeah, that’s us. Sorry for the stares. We’re just—big fans.”

“Great!” Tony says, relieved that this isn’t just a bunch of random people who found their way onto the set. “I just wanted to say thanks for everything you’re doing. I know giving up your regular life for ten weeks isn’t easy, especially when you’re not even the ones competing—” He laughs a little, but it dies off quickly when no one else laughs with him. Yeesh, tough crowd. “Anyway, thanks.”

“Oh, you’re just as cute as a button, aren’t you?” one of them mutters.

But before Tony can catch his name, he hears Nick calling for him. “Looks like I’m needed,” he says, jerking his thumb towards the house. “Uh… bye?”

Well, that was awkward.

As he’s walking away, he thinks he hears someone say, “—gonna be in trouble, isn’t he?” but they walk off to go do bodyguard things before Tony can ask them why he’ll be in trouble for wanting to thank them.

“What were you doing over there?” Nick asks him curiously as Tony joins him at the front of the house.

“Thanking them for giving up their lives for ten weeks,” Tony says. “But I don’t think they liked me very much.”

“You can’t win everyone,” Nick says philosophically. “Have you taken a look at the revised filming schedule for the week?”

“Yep,” he replies. Historically, what the fans know as “Week One” is actually only a single night, one cocktail party that stretches from dusk to dawn. Tony doesn’t mind a good all-nighter, but he’s heard the horror stories from past bachelors, bachelorums, and bachelorettes about the multiple takes and heightened emotions and utter exhaustion that sets in by the end of the night, and he has no interest in that. Besides, it doesn’t seem fair to the eight people he’ll send home at the first rose ceremony that they took time off, quit their jobs, literally uprooted their entire lives… just for a single night. So, since he has the leverage anyway, he’d put his foot down and insisted on giving Week One the space it deserves. It’ll stretch a full three days now into multiple cocktail parties that’ll be spliced together in editing to make it look like one night, giving Tony the time he needs to feel comfortable making his decision, the alphas time to feel like they got their money’s worth, and the crew the time to film without overexerting themselves.

“And you’re happy with it?” Nick checks.

Tony nods firmly. “Yeah.” He looks around at all the hustle. “This will really be ready for filming in four hours?”

“Yeah,” Nick says. “And so will you, as long as we get you off to your team.”

When it’s not being used for filming, Bachelor Mansion is actually open for private rentals as a pseudo-resort. In addition to the infinity pool in the back, the expansive gardens, the tennis court, and the fully stocked bar, it also contains a spa, and that’s where Nick leaves Tony, promising to collect him in two hours to whisk him off to costuming.

Tony spends those two hours being both pampered and plucked at. By the end of it, he’s had a relaxing back massage, had his legs waxed, his eyebrows plucked, and taken an actual mud bath, which isn’t something he can say he’s ever done before. He’s not the kind of omega who finds spa days all that enjoyable. For him, relaxing and taking care of himself is all about spending time in his workshop getting dirtier, not cleaning up in a bubble bath.

At the end of it, though, Nick comes back and does indeed whisk him off, but only as far as the kitchen.

“If I know you, you’ll forget to eat tonight and we’ll have to deal with the bachelorette passing out on Night One,” Nick says severely. “I’m taking care of that now.”

“I couldn’t—” Tony protests, looking at the rows of hors d'oeuvres in front of him. They all look very good, and he’s sure that the alphas will love them, but his stomach has never been able to handle anything so heavy while he’s nervous, except for—

“I know,” Nick says. “That’s why I had them make you chicken salad too.”

“You know me too well,” he says ruefully, taking the plate of chicken salad on toasted bread that the chef passes him. He eats quickly, all too aware of the passing time and how dusk is quickly approaching.

Nick takes him off to costuming afterwards, where he meets up with Randi Rahm, who designs most of the cocktail outfits on the show. She’s designed him an absolutely gorgeous outfit—in gold, just as he’d requested, because he wants to shine bright tonight. The bodice is sheer taffeta, covered in gold beading and yellow diamonds in a pattern that mimics the fronds of Miami palm trees. The taffeta slowly turns to gold at his waistline, the threads shimmering in the light as the diamonds twinkle up at him. The skirt falls to his knees, overtop a pair of tawny leggings with additional gold thread at the seams. A pair of calf-high brown lace-up leather boots completes the ensemble, and Tony falls in love with it immediately.

“I feel like I don’t even need to ask,” Randi says, eyes twinkling, “but do you like it?”

“I love it,” he says honestly.

He’s dressed and gotten his hair and makeup done with just thirty minutes to go to showtime. The sun has already gone down when he walks outside to the waiting limo. The driveway is gleaming under the lights, the fairy lights are twinkling in the rose bushes, and everything looks absolutely gorgeous. Nick is nowhere to be seen; Tony is escorted by Katy, one of the production assistants.

“You’re going to go for a quick ride, just around Mulholland, so that the viewers at home think that you got ready somewhere else and are just now getting to the mansion,” Katy tells him while she hands him into the limo. “Ten minutes, max. When you come back, Nick will be right here waiting for you.” She shoots him a quick grin and a thumbs up. “Good luck!” She double checks that his skirt is tucked inside, closes the door, and raps on the roof.

Smoothly, the limo pulls out of the driveway. Tony sits back and takes a deep breath. His journey is finally starting.

Chapter Text

Nick’s opinion is that never before has the phrase “it takes a village” been so relevant as when it came to Tony Stark. Tony had been a brilliant child—he’s still brilliant now, obviously—and brilliant children come with their own host of problems that celebrity parents aren’t always able to deal with. Howard and Maria had been as loving as they could be, but they’d still only been a few years out from The Bachelor, and they’d still been busy with appearances and Howard’s tech business suddenly exploding and a million other things. And into the gap they’d left behind, the rest of Bachelor Nation swarmed in to make up the difference.

Tony Stark had grown up with a million aunts and uncles, all of whom loved him dearly and spoiled him terribly. And for all that, he’d still grown up to be just as brilliant as his potential had shown and kinder and softer than he had any right to be. He’s a boy that any parent, any grandparent, any aunt or uncle could be proud of, and Nick is no exception.

Nick stands there at the entrance to the mansion, watching Tony get out of the limo, his hand tucked away in the limo driver’s, and wishes that everyone who’d had a hand in raising Tony could be standing there with him to watch him take this next step. Tony is beautiful and confident and excited, standing there in his glittering prime under the spotlights, ready and open to finding love.

“Hey, kid,” he says softly as Tony comes up to him. Tony ignores the greeting and goes straight in for a hug, one that Nick gladly gives him.

“Hi, Nick,” he says when he pulls away. God, but he’s practically giddy like this, all smiles and bright eyes. Nick can’t wait to see what this journey brings him.

“Are you ready?”

Tony nods, a small, eager motion while he’s all but bouncing on the balls of his feet. “So ready.”

“Are you nervous?”

“You know, I don’t think I am?” Tony muses. “I was a few hours ago, but then I pulled up in front of you, and… I trust you. You won’t let this go horribly.”

“I think you put too much trust in me to rein in the producers,” Nick says wryly, and Tony laughs.

“No, I mean it! I know it probably won’t go perfect, but you’ll make sure it’s as close to perfect as it can be.”

To be fair, Tony’s right. Nick wants this to be perfect for him so badly after watching this kid struggle the last several years. Tony deserves it after everything his shitty alphas have put him through.

“I’ll do my best,” he says, which is nothing less than he’d promised himself when Alex agreed to bring Tony on as the next bachelorette. He’ll do everything he can to minimize the amounts of drama Tony has to put up with. Just a smooth, easy journey to love here.

He hears the sound of the gate opening in the distance. “Alright,” Nick says. “First limo is coming up the drive.”

Tony inhales shakily, looking back over his shoulder at the headlights. “I can do this,” he says softly. “I’m ready.”

“Yeah, you are,” Nick agrees. This time, he’s the one who moves in for a hug. He doesn’t usually do this—not for any of the bachelorettes he’s met over the years and not for Tony either—but it feels right. “Let the journey begin.”

Tony doesn’t even have a chance to start feeling nervous before the limo door opens and the first alpha steps out. The first thing Tony notices about him is the suit—it’s a gorgeous deep red. The second thing is how incredibly well he fills out the suit. Part of him wishes he had a bag of chips so he could hold one up and find out if he has the shoulder-to-waist ratio of, as Tony suspects, a Dorito. The last thing he notices, though, as the alpha gets closer is the incredibly ocean blue eyes he has.

“Hi!” he says. “I like your taste in suits.”

The alpha looks down at his suit like he’s somehow forgotten what he’s wearing, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Thanks. I wanted to go with a bold color, but then I started overthinking it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Tony tells him. “It’s my favorite color actually.”

“Lucky me,” the alpha smiles. “I’m Steve.”

“I’m Tony.”

“Yeah, I figured, given you were the one standing here in the gold outfit.” Tony laughs. At the sound, Steve’s face relaxes into a stunningly gorgeous smile. “Oh good, you liked the joke. My best friend told me I shouldn’t make jokes, you wouldn’t take me seriously.”

“Don’t worry,” Tony assures him. “I like an alpha who can make me laugh.”

“Great,” Steve says, smiling at him again. “Well, I’ll get out of your way.”

“I’ll see you inside.”

“See you inside. You look incredible, by the way.”

“Thanks!” Tony watches him go, smiling to himself. “I like him.”

He turns back around just in time to see a petite woman with black hair reaching all the way down to her waist getting out of the car. She’s wearing a stunning black cocktail dress with silver flowers embroidered along the hemline.

“Hi,” Tony says cheerfully. “How are you?”

“I’m amazing now that I’m meeting you,” she says.

“I like hearing that.”

“I’m Rumiko,” she says, giving him a hug once she’s close enough. “But everyone calls me Rumi.”

“Rumi,” he says. “I can do that.”

“I’m the CFO for my dad’s company, Fujikawa Industries,” she continues. Tony knows that name. They’re SI’s biggest competitor over in the East Asian market. Curiouser and curiouser. “And I just wanted to be honest with you: you are very, very pretty.”

“Thanks!” Tony says. “I’m so glad you think I’m pretty. I think we’d have problems if you didn’t. I’ll see you inside.”

Alpha #3 is another woman, much taller than Rumiko, though still shorter than Tony, in a pale pink evening gown that she almost trips over as she’s coming up the steps.

“You good there?” Tony checks, worried. She didn’t fall, but he doesn’t want anyone to get hurt tonight (or ever, but they’ll cross that bridge when they come to it).

“Yes, I’m good,” she assures him. “My name is Helen Cho.”

“Helen Cho,” Tony repeats. “I like that. It suits you.”

She blushes. “Thank you. I’m a geneticist, I live in Seoul, and I’m very pleased to be meeting you today.”

“Thank you, Helen. It was nice meeting you.”

The next alpha has more tattoos than Tony usually likes to see on an alpha, and he introduces himself in Russian, of all things:

“Menya zovut Ivan Vanko. Vy voskhititel'ny. Ya s neterpeniyem zhdu vozmozhnosti stat' tvoim khozyainom.”

Tony blinks at him, not entirely sure how to respond. His Russian is a little rusty since his boarding school days, but he’s fairly certain that Ivan Vanko just told him he’s looking forward to owning him.

“Um,” he says, trying not to look at the nearby cameras. Maybe he heard it wrong. Or maybe he mistranslated it. It’s probably better to play it safe and act like he has no clue what he said. If he’s got it wrong, then he doesn’t want to insult him. And if he’s got it right… well, he’ll find out soon enough and kick Ivan off then.

He laughs, his press-ready laugh that anyone who knows him well will know is completely fake but no one else can see through. “I have no idea what you said, but it sounded nice! It’s nice to meet you too, Ivan. That is your name, right?”

“Da.”

As Ivan walks inside, Tony hisses at the closest camera operator, “He does speak English, right?” He doesn’t have a problem with mating someone from another country, but the language barrier might be one.

The operator just shrugs at him, so that was entirely unhelpful.

A strawberry blonde with the cutest freckles gets out of the limo next. She’s wearing a floor-length royal blue gown with, Tony notices, no back, but she seems much more comfortable in it than Helen had in her dress. He frowns to himself, just a little. She seems familiar, but she definitely doesn’t have one of those faces.

“Sorry to be rude,” he says before she can even get a word out, “but do I know you?”

“You have a good memory,” the alpha says. “We’ve never met officially, but I do work for the Maria Stark Foundation.”

Now that he has a clue where he’s seen her, the memory comes easily to mind. “You’re the curator for my mom’s art collection.”

She nods, clearly pleased that he remembered her. “Pepper Potts, Mr. Stark.”

“Pepper Potts, that’s adorable.” Like a name in a fairytale. “And do you like being an art curator?”

“I love it. Every day brings something new.” She pauses. “Will that be all, Mr. Stark?”

He laughs at her turn of phrase. She’s fun. He likes her. “That’ll be all, Ms. Potts.”

The last alpha (from this limo, anyway) has clearly been hitting the champagne already, and pretty heavily, judging by the way he’s stumbling. But it’s probably fine; they’re all nervous tonight, so Tony can’t really blame him for drinking more than he should. Besides, it’s pretty adorable how he opens his mouth and hiccups before immediately launching into Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18.

“But thy eternal summer shall not…” The alpha pauses and thinks about it for a moment. “Shall not… Hmm. I think I’ve forgotten the rest of it.”

“That’s alright,” Tony says, somehow charmed despite himself. “A for Effort. I’m Tony.”

“I’m Trevor,” the alpha says. “Trevor Slattery. We share the same initials. I believe that means we’re destined.”

“Something like that, for sure. Go on inside, Shakespeare.”

“No, it’s Trevor,” Trevor reminds him, wandering inside.

Tony laughs as soon as he’s gone. He’s pretty sure already that he doesn’t see a future with Trevor Slattery, but he seems like he’ll be fun to have around anyway.

The next limo is coming around the bend as the first one pulls out of the driveway, so he doesn’t have any time to reflect on the six alphas he’s just met. But, then again, he supposes that’s what the purpose of the cocktail party is.

The first alpha out of this limo is wearing, inexplicably, a plum-colored suit. It’s an incredibly bold choice and probably not one Tony would have made for the first night, but honestly, it’s kind of working for him.

About halfway up the drive, the alpha trips, just like Helen did. But unlike Helen, this one actually topples all the way forward. Suddenly worried, Tony starts forward, but the alpha pulls a Willy Wonka on him, turns his fall into a somersault, and pops right back up again, fresh as a daisy.

“Very nicely done!” Tony applauds him.

“Thanks, I’m Clint. I’m a stunt performer.”

“Like in the movies?”

“Got it in one,” Clint says, pointing at him. “I feel I should let you know right out of the gate: I have three kids from a previous marriage. I know not every omega is ready to become a parent as soon as the honeymoon is over, but my kids are the most important people in my life and I’m hoping that you’ll make the list too, so I wanted you to know.”

“I appreciate the honesty, Clint,” Tony says and gives him a hug.

Clint is followed by an alpha who’s wearing an actual cape. An opera cape, yes, but still, it’s a cape. He only just barely manages not to give an incredulous look to the closest camera, but it’s a near thing. He’s not sure if he should hold out his arms for a hug, but the alpha takes his hand to kiss the back of it instead.

“My name is Victor von Doom,” the alpha pronounces solemnly, which is certainly A Name.

“Let me guess, your friends call you Victor?” Tony guesses, trying for something light and teasing.

Victor von Doom is having none of it though. “My friends call me Doom,” he says instead. Tony’s mouth hangs open for a moment, not sure where to go from there, but then Doom cracks the first hint of a smile Tony has seen from him in the last ninety seconds. “You, however, may call me Victor.”

He sweeps away, leaving Tony to breathe out, “Oh, thank fuck,” to the empty air and then immediately wince when he remembers that he was supposed to be watching his mouth.

“Oh my god, you’re Bruce Banner,” he says as soon as the next alpha—in a very nice forest green suit—gets out of the limo.

Bruce Banner looks slightly taken aback. “You recognize me?” he asks.

“Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled,” Tony gushes. He thinks about it and then adds, “And I’m a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous rage monster when you catch your students using generative AI.”

Bruce sighs. “Don’t even get me started on that misnomer.”

Tony grins at him. “It’s great to meet you.”

“It’s good to meet you too. You look incredible.”

Indries gets out of the limo next, and Tony greets her just as warmly as he had when he saw her at the finale. She seems a little more distant than she had then, but he chalks it up to nerves and lets her head on inside.

There’s a longer than usual pause after Indries leaves, making Tony wonder if they have stage fright (or worse, if they’re having second thoughts). But then, the kind of music that he’d expect to hear on a sitcom’s imagining of a fashion show starts to play.

“The hell…?”

He stops short as someone unrolls a red carpet from inside the limo. It rolls neatly to a stop at his feet. He looks down at it, caught off guard, then back at the limo as a short brunette in sky-high yellow heels climbs out of the car. Her dress is as yellow as her heels, and as she struts down the red carpet, poses, and mugs at him before whirling back around and strutting back toward the car, he realizes that his first instinct was right.

It is a fashion show.

He doubles over laughing, not meanly, just very amused at the absurdity. He grew up with this show, he should be used to the absurd things people will do to catch the bachelorette’s attention (from wearing sloth onesies to shipping themselves in a box to dressing as an actual windmill). But he can’t remember ever seeing a miniature fashion show before, and he’s charmed by it.

“Hi!” the alpha says, bounding back up to him. He’s half-terrified she’s going to slip and fall on the wet pavement but she seems more comfortable in heels than he does with his feet flat on the ground. “I’m Janet.”

“Nice to meet you, Janet,” he says, hugging her. She squeezes back so tightly, he think he hears his bones creak, though she can’t be much taller than a whopping five feet. “I loved your runway strut.”

“Thanks! I’m usually behind the designs instead of on the runway, but I can strut with the best of them, you know?”

“I do now. I’ll see you inside.”

The last alpha is Whitney in an ice blue dress that just washes her out. Her voice is high-pitched and slightly grating on his ears. He’s pretty sure he recognizes her as a TikTok influencer, though her last name is familiar enough that she might be a typical run-of-the-mill socialite instead. Maybe. He’d look it up once he got back to his hotel room later, but though he still has access to his phone in case SI needs him, he’d had to give up internet access for the duration of filming. He sends Whitney inside after she makes a truly awful joke about heats, already looking forward to whoever’s next.

Whoever’s next, once the third limo pulls up, is Thor, who, despite already having a rose, has apparently decided that he needs to impress Tony further. When he steps out of the car, he’s dressed in full Viking garb, complete with a fake battle axe slung over his shoulder. The rose he’d earned at the finale is pinned to the bright red cape he’s wearing.

“Oh my god,” Tony breathes, goggling at him.

“Tony!” Thor exclaims, striding up to give him a bone-creaking hug. “I have returned to slay your demons.”

“Is that why you have a battle axe?” Tony asks faintly.

“Indeed.”

“Well, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think I have any demons who need to be slayed at the moment.”

“No?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head.

“Very well.” Thor gives him another hug, kisses his forehead, and strides inside, leaving Tony feeling vaguely like a tornado just blew through the driveway.

He’s honestly kind of hoping that the next alpha is a little calmer than Thor’s introduction, but no such luck. She, one Sunset Bain of Baintronics, drops to one knee and proposes as soon as she’s done introducing herself. It’s clearly meant to be a bit, but Tony looks at the Neil Lane ring she’s offering and feels like it’s kind of more real than it should be. A ring pop would’ve been fine for a joke, you know? Not an actual diamond ring.

“Thanks,” he says, feeling even more off kilter, “but I think I should meet everyone else before I consider your… offer.”

“Are you sure?” she checks. “This could be the shortest season in history.”

That cements it. He doesn’t mind her proposing this early, and who knows? Maybe he’ll fall in love with her later on. But right now, he doesn’t particularly like her ego.

“I’m sure,” he says firmly. “I want to meet everyone first.”

He thinks she’s pouting, but she turns away too fast for him to tell.

Fortunately, the next alpha seems perfectly normal, and it’s the breath of fresh air that Tony didn’t realize he needed after, well, pretty much everyone since Bruce. He liked most of them, but it’s just been so much so fast, so someone who exits the limo in a normal grey suit and smiles nicely at him and introduces himself as “Sam Wilson. I’m a therapist in D.C.” is exactly what he needed.

“Hi, Sam Wilson from D.C.” Tony replies, smiling back at him. “I’m Tony, and you have a gorgeous smile. It’s the kind of smile that makes me want to smile too.”

Sam’s smile grows even wider. “Thanks. I like hearing that. And if we’re exchanging compliments, then let me say that that color looks incredible on you.”

Tony swishes his skirt a little. “I like it too.”

Unfortunately, the brief reprieve Sam had offered doesn’t last any longer than him. Alpha #4 from this limo is Aldrich Killian, dressed in a tan linen suit that he has to be freezing in considering they’re in the mountains, has brought a miniature planetarium with him, and he takes Tony through an entire show on the ceiling of the awning—a short, three-minute show, but still a show. Tony is exhausted by the end of it and feels more than a little bad for the people still waiting in his limo.

He has to concede, though, that the next person probably doesn’t mind the wait that much. No one who has a choreographed dance to Redbone’s “Come and Get Your Love” is so uptight as to mind a three-minute delay, especially not when their own dance is a full minute before he finishes right in front of Tony.

Despite the length, Tony finds him much less pretentious and much more amusing than Aldrich, so he doesn’t even have to pretend that he’s smiling when he says, “That was some dance.”

“Thanks,” the alpha says, not even out of breath. “I’m a dance instructor from St. Charles, Missouri.”

Tony waits but when the alpha doesn’t say anything else, he asks, “And your name is?”

“Oh, shit! I forgot about my name. Uh, I’m Peter. Peter Quill. From Missouri. I said that already, didn’t I?”

“You did, but that’s okay,” Tony says, grinning. “It’s cute.”

“Oh good. That’s always what you want to hear from the omega you’re trying to impress, that they think you’re cute.”

“Cute’s a good thing,” Tony tells him. “It’s better than annoying.”

“It is at that,” Peter agrees. “So I guess I just head on back?” He jerks a thumb towards the mansion’s front door.

“Yep.” Tony watches him head right for the garden around the back and calls, “Other way!”

The last alpha from this limo is a stunning blonde in a sparkling black gown. Tony hums appreciatively under his breath while she crosses the driveway, quiet enough that she won’t be able to hear him. He wouldn’t mind losing a few hours of sleep with her.

Of course, then she says, “Hi, I’m Christine Everhart,” and that pretty much shatters the illusion real quick.

“The… reporter from Vanity Fair?” he checks.

She smiles tightly. “Don’t worry. Nothing that you say for the next ten weeks is on the record. I’m not here to write a story, just taking my shot.”

“Right,” he says, but still feels a little uneasy about having an investigative journalist along on his journey to love. Especially one like Christine Everhart, who’s never attempted to hide her contempt for Stark Industries, even though they haven’t been involved in the weapons business since before Howard took control of the company. She might say she’s here for the right reasons, but he’s not sure he believes her.

Fortunately, the fourth limo is pulling up in front of the mansion now, so he lets her slip away, resolving to himself to keep an eye on her over the next few nights. The first hint that he gets that she’s snooping around and she is out of there.

However, it’s hard to focus on whatever Christine Everhart is up to when Alpha #—he does some quick math in his head—19 is getting out of the limo in an Air Force flight suit.

“You’re a pilot!” he exclaims delightedly. “My best friend, Rhodey, is a pilot too!”

“I don’t know any Rhodeys where I work,” the alpha says, grinning at him. “Captain Carol Danvers, at your service.” She gives him a lazy salute.

“That’s a shame,” he tells her. “Rhodey’s the best. Where are you stationed?”

“That’s classified,” she says. He starts to frown—it very definitely is not classified—but she follows it up with, “I’m a test pilot. Gotta keep our bases secret, you know?”

“Oh,” he says. “Rhodey’s not a test pilot.”

“No, I didn’t figure he was,” Carol says, laughing. “It’s a pretty small community. Everyone knows everyone.”

“Do you like being a test pilot?”

“Higher, further, faster, baby,” Carol says, winking at him. “Now, I brought something for you. As a pilot, wings are something that’s symbolic of our journey and the path we took to get to the skies. I thought that to symbolize our journey starting, I would give you this pair right here.” She pulls a pair of wings off of her flight suit and holds them out.

“Thank you,” Tony says, touched. “I love this.”

“I’m glad you enjoy it.”

“It was nice to meet you, Carol.”

“Alright. I’ll see you inside?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

He smiles down at the pair of wings in his hand and tucks them into the pockets of his leggings.

“Rhodey never gave me wings,” he says grumpily. He glances up at the closest camera. “I’m coming for you, Rhodey, and you better have a good explanation for this.”

The next alpha does a little dance just like Peter had. The tune is a little jauntier, a little jazzier, than Peter’s, but unlike Peter, it’s pretty obvious that he isn’t a dance instructor. The dance comes across as more awkward than anything else, and he takes such small, mincing steps that it feels like it takes him forever to reach Tony.

“Hi, I’m Justin,” the alpha says. “I’m the Head of Research and Development at Hammer Industries.”

“Are you now?” Tony asks and desperately prays that he doesn’t say anything disparaging about Hammer Industries for as long as Justin is on the show. Which might be a problem, because he has a lot of disparaging things to say about Hammer Industries. Like they’re a garbage company run by garbage people. But he holds his tongue and carefully keeps his mouth shut throughout the rest of Justin’s fawning spiel.

“Yikes,” he murmurs once Justin is gone.

Natasha is next, this time in sparkling red, and he greets her warmly. He feels like she’d had the simplest introduction during the finale, but then again, she couldn’t have known what everyone else would come up with. She doesn’t try for anything fancier today either, but she seems genuinely interested in knowing how his evening is going and he appreciates the break from the craziness. He knows it’s part and parcel of the bachelorette experience, and given his life, he was sure he’d be able to handle it, but it’s more exhausting than he’d thought it would be, never knowing what was coming next and if someone was going to pull an absolutely insane stunt.

Natasha is followed by Loki Laufeyson. Tony makes the same joke about Norse gods that he’d made about Thor. Loki doesn’t seem to find it nearly as funny as Thor had, but the hungry look in his eyes makes Tony shiver in all the best ways, and those long fingers are putting ideas in his head.

Loki is followed by Bucky, who has, of all things, a Stark Industries prosthetic. Given that Tony had worked personally on those prosthetics, he’s eager to know how they're working out in the real world and even more eager to find out that Bucky does all of his own repairs himself. Tony is a big believer in right to repair and he’d fought for SI to adopt the policy, so Bucky’s work on his arm doesn’t void the warranty, but he’s never known anyone to take on the work themselves when they could just have SI do it for them. It says a lot about his work ethic, a lot that Tony likes.

He's expecting the next alpha to get out immediately, but that’s not what happens. The limo driver just stands there, and Tony stands there, and the camera operators stand there, until suddenly he hears someone shout, “Tony! You can’t get married!”

He turns around, watching stunned as someone in a suit vaults the fence at the end of the driveway (weak point, he thinks to himself) and runs in his direction. He takes an uncertain step back, abruptly wondering if this is actually part of the show or if someone has managed to sneak on set. The only thing that makes him think maybe this is an expected part of the introductions is that no one is bothering to stop him.

“You can’t get married!” the person yells again. “You’re already married!”

“You are?” one of the camera operators exclaims.

Tony, however, is just as confused as them. “I am?”

“Don’t you remember?” the person pants.

“I—wait.” He squints at the person, now close enough that Tony can make out his features—familiar features. “Ty?”

“You can’t get married,” Tiberius Stone says for a third time, jogging up to Tony. “You’re already married to me.”

Tony opens his mouth.

Shuts it again.

“Um,” he says. “Uh. I… I don’t think that playground marriages count?” Shit, it had been so long ago. Tony had agreed to marry Ty in a ceremony on the playground a week before his family moved back to England. He’d never thought anything of it. Ty had never contacted him after he moved like most small children forget to do, and Tony had eventually forgotten all about their mock-wedding ceremony.

But Ty apparently hadn’t forgotten. Ty, apparently, had been waiting for just this moment to bring it up again. Ty has been waiting for him.

His heart skips a beat.

“Damn,” Ty says, smiling that easy smile of his that Tony had found so beckoning when they’d been kids. “Guess I’ll have to win your heart all over again.”

He heads inside before Tony can wrap his head around the idea that Ty Stone might actually have feelings for him. He doesn’t get the chance to make any more sense of it though before Nick approaches him, a grave look on his face.

“You already know him?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah, we went to elementary school together,” Tony manages.

Nick scowls. “You know, we don’t bring in alphas who are already familiar with the bachelorette. That’s a standard of the show.”

“I know, Nick,” he says.

“I can kick him out right now.”

“Don’t!” Tony says, so quickly he surprises himself.

Nick raises an eyebrow. “Don’t? Are you telling me that you think you can remain objective with him?”

“The entire point of the show is subjectivity,” Tony sighs. “But yeah, I’m not gonna treat him any different just because we knew each other when we were kids. It’s been sixteen years since the last time I talked to Ty. I didn’t even remember our little wedding thing until he brought it up.”

“You’re sure? I can always find you another alpha. There were plenty that we left on the cutting room floor.”

“I’m sure,” he says firmly.

Nick doesn’t look nearly as sure, but he nods and drops the issue. “Six alphas left. How are you feeling?”

“Uh, good?” Tony guesses, still feeling a little overwhelmed by Ty’s dramatic entrance. “Yeah. I’m feeling good. Excited!” He’s not sure how anyone can top Ty showing up like the best reminder of his past, but they deserve the opportunity to try.

“Alright,” Nick says as the last limo pulls into the driveway. “Let’s get back to it.”

Luckily, the first alpha out of the limo is Stephen (oh, god, he didn’t even think about how he has a Steve and a Stephen, hopefully, he’ll be able to keep them straight). The normality of an alpha he met at the finale and not having to focus on meeting someone new helps him get his head back on straight, and by the time Stephen walks inside, he feels ready to meet the next one.

Wanda is from Sokovia, an Eastern European country so small that Tony has never heard of it before. She moved to New Jersey as a teenager and now works as a magician, doing small shows around the Jersey and New York area. She punctuates this last part by pulling an entire bouquet out of the clutch she’d brought with her: pink carnations.

“They would have been roses,” she says with a wink, “but that’s your job.”

Privately, Tony thinks that the roses could have been a clever nod at her picking him just as he picks her, like Stephen had done, but he keeps that thought to himself. She clearly put thought into it, and he doesn’t need to put her down just because he would have done things differently.

Wanda is followed by T’Challa, who, as the heir to Panther Enterprises, runs in the same circles as Tony, but they’ve never had a chance to meet before. Panther Enterprises operates out of Wakanda and rarely leave its borders.

“T’Challa,” he says, surprised. “I’m surprised to see you all the way out here.”

“Rumors reached us that you were going to be the next bachelorette,” T’Challa says. Tony can just picture Nick stiffening wherever he’s hiding—the producers put a lot of work into making sure that no one knew Tony was ushering in the new season. “I had to put my hat in the ring, as you say.” He pauses and produces a slim box from beneath his coat. “In Wakanda, it’s tradition to begin a courtship with a gift that symbolizes the person you wish to court. I have heard about your work with the arc reactor and trying to find a new core to power it, so I chose a gift that I believe may aid you in your endeavors.”

Curious, Tony takes the box, opens it, and then nearly drops it in his shock over what’s inside. “You can’t—T’Challa, this is—you can’t be giving me vibranium.”

T’Challa smiles at him. “I can,” he says. “I believe that if anyone could work with it outside of Wakanda, it would be you.”

“Holy shit,” Tony says faintly. This is practically a king’s ransom—or dowry, his brain reminds him.

“I trust that means you like it?” T’Challa asks knowingly.

“Mmhmm,” Tony says. And here he’d been thinking that no one would be able to top Ty’s introduction. He needs to get this to the lab immediately. There are so many tests he can—and if it can power the arc reactor—and maybe he can—oh wait. He still has to get through the rest of tonight.

…Fuck.

He barely pays attention to Raza al-Wazar, who works in acquisitions and which Tony is 90% positive is code for something shady.

He barely pays attention to May Parker, either, which he does feel a little bad about, but to be fair, this is how his brain works and anyone he chooses to mate needs to know that. He does notice that Peter isn’t with her and asks if he’s back with his parents, but apparently, May is Peter’s full-time guardian and the kid is staying with friends back in Queens while May is on the show.

The last alpha of the entire night is one Emma Frost, sister of Whitney Frost, who Tony met earlier. Emma is both classier than her sister and has more of a brain, given that she’s actually able to hold a conversation with Tony. She has a gift for him too, a glittering diamond necklace in the exact same pattern as the diamonds on her gown. She insists on fastening it around his neck personally, and though Tony can admit that it’s spectacular, he also thinks it’s too heavy to wear for hours on end.

He’s relieved when she finally goes inside and he can slip it back off. It’s only right, right? He doesn’t want to go in there wearing a gift that someone gave him; it’ll look like he’s favoring them when he’s not.

“Alright, Tony,” Nick says, walking up behind him.

“Hey, Nick,” he replies, grinning at him.

“You just met your thirty alphas. How are we feeling?”

“Exhausted,” Tony says.

Nick looks unimpressed. “You wanna try that again and sound happier for the viewers at home?”

Tony makes a face—the viewers at home should want to know his genuine emotions—but obligingly chirps, “It’s been great! Everyone’s been so awesome, and I’m really looking forward to getting to know them better tonight.”

“Wonderful,” Nick says. “I just want to remind you that even though you’ve already given out a rose, you still have a First Impression rose. You’re going to give that rose to the one alpha who stands out to you tonight.”

Tony can already think of a couple who stood out to him, but he nods.

“I’ll bring that in a little bit later,” Nick says, which Tony takes to mean that Nick will give it to him in two days once they’re wrapping up filming for Week One. “Do you think you already know? Is there someone who’s already piqued your interest?”

“There are a couple that I’d like to get to know better,” Tony admits, “but I’m not completely decided yet.”

“No shame in that. Are you ready to go inside?”

Tony nods eagerly, his excitement picking back up now that he’ll actually get to interact with these people past a few minutes.

“Tony, get ready for the night of your life.”

Chapter Text

Steve is of the personal opinion that it’s utterly ridiculous to just sit around discussing Tony when he isn’t even there. Yet this, apparently, is an integral part of the contestant-on-The-Bachelorette experience in order to convince the other contestants that he’s there for “the right reasons” since they can, apparently, sabotage each other’s efforts by telling Tony that they’re not there for “the right reasons.” So they sit and they talk about Tony, even though all any of them really know at this point is that Tony is beautiful.

Steve has to wonder if these people are getting bonuses every time they say something about Tony because seriously, there’s only so much they can say when they’ve known him for a grand total of two minutes.

Fuck, he should have just coughed up the money for the good suppressants and sent Sharon in here instead. She would’ve eaten this whole thing up.

He glances at the grandfather clock in the hallway and stifles a yawn. Everyone on his team jokes about him being an old man and going to bed super early, but he can’t help it. He likes his sleep! It’s already later than Steve would normally be awake, but he has to stay alert. Pierce had agreed to put him at the top of the callout order so that he could get a measure of every other alpha as they arrived at the mansion. Falling asleep on the job because he’s bored and tired is definitely not a good first impression to make on either Tony or Pierce.

“Here he comes,” someone close to the door says, and everyone immediately straightens up like it’s the most important thing to have good posture. Anyone sitting stands up. Steve does what they’re doing. He’s pretty sure that most of them have more of an understanding of how this show works than he does, given that he’s only here because he was hired, so he should probably follow their lead.

Tony walks in, and Steve is struck again by just how pretty he is. This might be a job, but he can admit that Tony looks good. The gold… overcoat? He’s not sure what to call it, but whatever it is brings out the gold in his eyes. His hair looks soft and fluffy and touchable. And his boots show off his legs to their best advantage. Steve had noticed it outside, but it’s been almost two hours since then, and there’s something different about how Tony looks in the soft lighting inside in comparison to how he looked outside.

“Hi, everyone,” Tony says, clasping his hands together in front of him. “How are we doing tonight?”

“Better now that you’re here,” someone says, followed by an agreeing murmur from everyone else.

Tony grins at them. “Great. I’m so glad to hear it—I’m glad you’re here. I want to say thank you to everyone for saying yes, for agreeing to take this chance with me. And now that that’s out of the way, I just want to make sure you all know: I’m not perfect, and I’m not looking for someone perfect to be with. I’m looking for someone whose imperfections match mine. Just about anyone who knows me knows that I’m a mess, but that’s okay, because I think that love is about finding the person you can be a mess with and still know that they’re not going to walk away at the end of it. So that’s what I’m looking for from you: I’m looking for you to be real and honest and messy, because that’s what I’ll be with you. Oh, thank you.” He accepts the champagne glass that one of the production assistants hands him.

This, apparently, is a signal because more production assistants start circling the room with full trays of champagne glasses, passing them out to the assembled alphas. Steve takes his with a murmured thanks while he keeps listening to Tony.

“I know it can be weird trying to find love with so many people at one time—or, from your end, watching me date so many other people while I’m also dating you. And that’s made me nervous, but tonight, each of you, even just the few short moments that we shared together made me feel so much better about this. And, because of that, I truly believe that I can see my alpha in this room. So, with all that being said, please raise your glasses.”

Finally, Steve knows what to do, if only because someone actually told him what to do. It’s Tony’s lead that he follows now, raising his glass high.

“To the start of a wonderful night,” Tony says. “And to the beginning of an incredible adventure to find true love. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Steve echoes, along with everyone else, and takes the smallest possible sip out of his glass. Even if he hadn’t wanted to drink because he wants to stay alert in case there’s trouble, he hates champagne. Give him a good beer any day, but champagne is just the worst. And he has to drink a bunch of it throughout the show. Damn.

He really should have made Sharon do this instead.

Part of him wants to do just that. He could declare that he’s there for the wrong reasons, leave, and go join his team in the bunkhouse. They’d have to send someone else in to make up the numbers, and he could make Sharon be that someone else.

But there’s two things that stop him.

Firstly, he’d have to figure out what the wrong reasons are. He can’t just admit that he’s a hired bodyguard; the entire point of him being undercover as a contestant is that Tony isn’t supposed to know about it. But he doesn’t know what else the wrong reasons could be (they have to exist, right? If it’s such a big deal that everyone is here for the right reasons, then there must be wrong reasons. He just can’t think of what they would be).

The other thing is that when he’d slipped away earlier (under the guise of needing to go to the bathroom, not that anyone had been paying attention to him) to ask Sharon to look into Tiberius Stone, she’d told him about meeting Tony earlier. So clearly Tony already knows the members of his team and replacing himself with one of them would just make it obvious what they’re up to.

“On that note,” Tiberius says, walking up to Tony as soon as everyone has lowered their glasses, “Tony, can I take you?”

“Yes, of course,” Tony says, letting Tiberius lead him out with a hand on his back.

“That was a little fast,” someone mutters.

“Couldn’t even let him spend two more seconds in here?” someone else asks.

“Of course not,” a third person says. “That’d mean running the risk that someone else would grab him first.”

Steve lets them complain and drifts in the direction of the pool where Tiberius had taken Tony. He doesn’t know what it is exactly, but something rubs him the wrong way about that guy. Maybe it’s that all of the contestants are asked about any prior connection that they might have with Tony, and, according to the complaints from Pepper, Rumiko, and a few of the others, they’d all been very open about the possibility that Tony would know their faces. Tiberius had very obviously lied on his form or else he wouldn’t have been allowed on the show, and if he lied about that, then Steve has to wonder what else he might be lying about. Or maybe it’s that Tiberius has had plenty of time to say something in the past about his lingering feelings for Tony (though Steve personally thinks it’s ridiculous to claim lingering feelings from elementary school), but he waited until Tony was going on a TV show to show up and announce them? It reeks of attention-seeking behavior.

Whatever it is, he’s learned to trust his instincts over all the years he’s been working for Shield, and they’re telling him not to leave Tony alone with Tiberius.

“Hey,” Ty says as they take a seat in front of the outdoor fireplace.

“Hi,” Tony replies.

“So how have you been?”

“I’ve been good,” Tony says. He shrugs. “You’ve probably read the tabloids.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Actually, I don’t really want to talk about me. I want to talk about you. What was that tonight? I didn’t know you even remembered our little thing on the playground, let alone that you’d take it seriously enough to come back tonight.”

“Was it too much?” Ty asks. He runs a hand through his gelled hair, making it stick up. Tony hides a giggle behind his hand. “Damn, it was too much. I’m sorry, Tony, I just—I never forgot you. I know we were just kids, and it’s ridiculous to call any kind of childhood infatuation real love, but you were magnetic, even back then. I never forgot you, I just—”

“Forgot to call me?” Tony asks wryly. He leans back against the pillar, hoping that it won’t ruin the fancy beading on his overcoat.

“Yeah,” Ty says heavily. “I got caught up in being back in England, and by the time I realized I’d let our friendship go, it seemed like it had been too long. But I wanted to. So when I heard the rumors that you were going to be the next bachelorette—”

“Rumors?” Tony asks. Now seems like as good a time as any to ask about those. He knows how hard the producers had worked to keep the news quiet. He wants to know who leaked.

“Alright, rumors might be too strong a word,” Ty says. “It was speculation, really. The producers hadn’t addressed the petition to bring the show back, so people thought that that meant that they were. And you know how social media can be.” He rolls his eyes. “People started talking about who they’d want to be the next bachelorette. Someone pointed out that you were single again, and the idea picked up steam, so when I saw the casting call for alphas, I thought I’d put in an application. Worse that could happen is I found out it wasn’t you and quit.”

Tony relaxes at knowing that there wasn’t any leak, just fandom doing what fandom does best: making mountains out of molehills. Then the rest of what Ty said sinks in and he tenses all over again.

“You would have quit if you found out I wasn’t the bachelorette?” he asks, fiddling with his hands in his lap.

“Yeah,” Ty says seriously. “I would have. I’m here for you, not just any omega they pulled in.”

“You could have said something,” Tony says quietly. He doesn’t know what he would have said if Ty had just called him out of the blue to ask him out, but knowing that Ty has had these feelings for as long as he had makes him feel like he has to give this a shot.

Ty shrugs. “Like I said, I didn’t feel like I had a shot after I waited so long to call you.”

And Tony guesses he can understand getting too worked up about something that he lets an opportunity pass him by, though he doesn’t remember Ty ever being shy about anything that he wanted, so he lets the issue drop.

“So, tell me about yourself?” he asks instead. “What have you been doing these days?”

Tiberius disappears off to the confessional booth set up in one of the offices once he’s done talking with Tony. Steve watches him go, considering continuing to follow him and listen to what he tells the confessional, but if he is up to something, then he’s hardly likely to tell a camera, is he?

And besides, there are more people for Steve to keep an eye on than just Tiberius. He might have been the one who stood out the most, but Steve had watched every single arrival and noted every single expression on Tony’s face. There are a few who made him uncomfortable, and it’s Steve’s job to keep an eye on all of them.

He slips back into the party and approaches a group consisting of Ivan, Justin, Clint, and Pepper. He doesn’t sit down with them; he doesn’t want to actually get caught up in a conversation and have to split his focus. But he stands behind them, pretending to sip his champagne while he listens.

“I told you I’m a therapist,” Sam says. “I live in D.C. Settled there after I was discharged from the military two years ago.”

“Discharged?” Tony asks.

“Honorably,” Sam tells him. He chuckles. “Don’t worry, nothing bad. I was a pararescueman. A mission went south, and I was injured. Couldn’t keep flying after that, so they sent me home.”

Tony can sense that there’s more to the story than that, but it’s a little early in the season to be swapping tragic backstories (those are usually reserved for the third episode onward). Besides, he doesn’t want to press Sam to share something that he isn’t ready to yet. There’s something about Sam that makes him feel very safe, for all that they haven’t known each other very long, and Tony doesn’t want to shatter that peace by asking too many questions.

“And now you’re a therapist,” he says.

“Yeah. I work at the VA, trying to help other people like me,” Sam explains.

“What’s it like living in D.C.?”

Sam chuckles and leans back against the sofa. Casually, he puts his arm along the back, probably not so coincidentally just in reach of Tony’s other shoulder where he can brush his fingertips against him. Tony registers how nice that feels and then deliberately leans further into it. Sam grins at him.

“It’s nice,” he says eventually. “It’s really nice. I live pretty close to the mall, so I go running there every morning, and let me tell you, it is really something to watch the sun rise over the Washington Monument.”

“You go running at dawn?” Tony exclaims, aghast.

Sam laughs again. “I take it you’re not much of a runner?”

“Definitely not.”

“So what do you do to work out, then?”

“Boxing,” Tony says. “I have a friend who did boxing in college. We work out together.”

“That sounds pretty great.”

“It is,” Tony agrees. “Alright, so, here’s the most important question you’ll be asked all season.”

Sam visibly braces himself. “I’m ready.”

“Star Trek or Star Wars?”

“Can you imagine waking up every morning next to Tony?” Rumiko muses, gazing in the direction of the pool where Tony is laughing about something with Trevor. “Do you think he sleeps—” She glances in the direction of the closest camera, turns back, and winks cheekily at the other alphas sitting with her—“in clothes or…?”

Steve tries not to look as baffled as he feels (though, judging by Dum Dum’s muffled laughter where he’s standing with one of the production assistants, he isn’t succeeding). It’s just—this conversation is so inane. They don’t know Tony. None of them do! They’ve all known him for a grand total of five minutes! Speculating about what he’s like at night or how he sleeps is entirely based on what he looks like. There’s no substance to it, and yet, that doesn’t stop them from having it.

“Mmm,” Whitney agrees. “Can you imagine him making us breakfast?”

Steve’s eyes narrow. Tony heads R&D for one of the largest companies in the world, and Whitney, according to her dossier, doesn’t have a job at all. If anyone should be making anyone breakfast in that relationship, it should be Whitney making Tony breakfast. And before he can think better of it (and better of antagonizing the other alphas here), he opens his mouth.

“Or making him breakfast,” he says coolly. “Since he’s, you know, a lot more important and a lot busier than most of us.”

Whitney has the grace to look slightly abashed, but only slightly. Rumiko, on the other hand, tosses her curtain of hair and replies, “Speak for yourself. I’m just as busy as Tony is. We’ll probably have to hire a cook.”

That, Steve concedes, would be a reasonable prediction of her life with Tony, given that they’d certainly have the money to afford it.

Helen interjects, gracefully directing the conversation away from Steve’s standoff with Rumiko and Whitney, “Whatever the situation, we should all only be so lucky. It’d be incredible to spend the rest of my life with Tony, but there are a lot of you to compete with. You all seem like such incredible alphas; it’s a wonder that any of us stand out in his mind.”

“You just have to get out there and stand out,” Tiberius—“Call me Ty”—replies. “That’s why I pulled Tony first. It’s primacy bias.”

“I don’t think Tony is one to rely on primacy bias,” T’Challa says. “He’s well known for his photographic memory.”

“I would agree,” Thor remarks. “I believe that it comes down to confidence in what you have to offer.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Clint jokes, gesturing at Thor’s… everything. Steve nods his head, agreeing silently. “Look at you. You’re a literal god of a specimen. Some of the rest of us aren’t as impressive.”

“Speak for yourself,” May jokes. She holds up her arm, flexing it to compare to Thor’s. “I think I’m just as impressive as the god of thunder over here.”

Everyone laughs, the tension breaking.

“Tell me, Tony,” Janet says, leading Tony outside with a tight grip on his hand. “Have you ever been to a bachelorette party before?”

Tony snorts before he can turn the sound into something more elegant. “No.” He’s always been bad at making friends with the other omegas that ran in his circles, too grubby, too mechanically minded, and frequently too young to fit in with them. As a result, he’s never been invited to be a bridesman or helped out with a bachelorette party.

“Well, I think that that’s a shame,” Janet says. “So, since you’ve never been, I thought I’d be the first to throw you your first bachelorette party.”

She pulls him into one of the small courtyards off the gardens. The space has been decorated like a small-scale party, complete with balloons, some games, and a party favor basket on one of the benches. A string of lights hang from one of the trees, streamers hang from another, and between the two, there’s a banner that reads HAPPY COCKTAIL PARTY!

“Oh my god,” he exclaims, touched by the thought and effort that clearly went into putting this together. Knowing how the show works, she couldn’t have put it together herself, she wouldn’t have had the time, but she must have coordinated with the production team to get it all set up, and that’s what matters to him. “This is incredible.”

“Yeah?” Janet squeals. “Are you ready?”

“Hell yeah I am,” he says.

“Great! Well, I love to dance, so I thought we’d start off with a game called Junk in the Trunk.”

Tony laughs at the name.

“They’re all pretty terrible, aren’t they?” Janet says, grinning at him. She helps him get a small, open container of ping pong balls on a belt looped around his waist, being predictably handsy with him as she does, and then gets her own belt on (with much less groping, he amusedly thinks). “Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Set… go!”

And they’re off, shaking their asses like there’s no tomorrow to try to shake all the ping pong balls out of the container. Janet clearly meant it when she said she loves to dance because she knows exactly the right way to shake the balls out, while Tony has to work a little harder to figure it out. She takes an early lead, but he can’t help noticing that she suddenly slows down, pretending to need more effort, after she glances over at him. He doesn’t need the ego boost from winning, but he appreciates that she’s thinking of him nonetheless.

Of course he wins, though he’s out of breath by the end of it and laughing so hard he can barely stand up straight. Janet’s not in much better position, giggling like mad while she crowns him with what he thinks might be an actual diamond tiara, even though it very tackily spells out “Bachelorette.”

“Thank you,” he tells her once they’re done playing the other games. “For putting all of this together. I really appreciate you taking the time to do this.”

“Of course!” Janet gushes, squeezing his hands. “You deserve it.”

“Tony?” Nick says, appearing out of nowhere. “Can we borrow you for a quick confessional?”

“Duty calls, I guess,” Tony says, winking broadly at Janet. She tries to wink back but only manages to blink, which is absolutely adorable. “Thanks again.”

“There’s something about him that I don’t like,” Trevor says, words slurring from the amount of alcohol he’s drunk throughout the course of the night. That’s something to keep an eye on, if the alcohol makes him angry or violent.

Steve pauses on his way out to the balcony where Aldrich, Christine, and Stephen are talking, smoothly adjusting his gait to join Trevor’s group instead. He has a suspicion that he knows who Trevor is talking about, but he wants to hear everyone’s thoughts while his own are still formulating.

“Alphas,” he says, nodding once. “Mind if I join you?”

“Be our guest,” Carol says, broadly gesturing at the couch across from her. She turns back to the rest of the group. “I know exactly what it is about him that I don’t like. It’s not right that he’s got a head start on the rest of us.”

“Ty isn’t the only alpha Tony was aware of before coming on the show,” Clint says, absently rubbing at a purple bandaid on the back of his hand. Yep, there it is. Everywhere Steve has gone tonight, Ty has come up in conversation, with just about everyone feeling uneasy about his history with Tony. Steve wishes Sharon would hurry up with her background check on him; he doesn’t like having such an unknown variable in the middle of his job.

“Sure,” Carol agrees, “but there’s a big difference between Tony admiring Bruce because he’s read a few of his papers and Ty having an emotional connection with Tony because they were best friends when they were younger. It smacks of him being fake. Why’d he wait this long to tell Tony he has feelings for him? It’s not like Tony disappeared off the face of the planet. We all know what he’s been up to since he got his Ph.D.”

Clint snags one of the chicken nuggets off of the plate on the table in front of them, tosses it in the air, and catches it in his mouth in an impressive, albeit kind of disgusting, way. Carol makes an approving noise. Steve just wants to know why they have chicken nuggets on the table in the first place. The production team really couldn’t shell out for something healthier?

“I don’t know,” Clint says around his mouthful of chicken nuggets. “I overheard Tony talking to Nick about it, and he seemed pretty convinced that he’ll be objective about Ty.”

“To be fair to him,” Trevor interjects, snagging yet another glass of champagne from a passing server, “it was almost twenty years ago. Tony remembering him at all is fairly impressive.”

“That just proves my point,” Carol says. “Clearly he made an impression on Tony back then, if he barely even had to remind him of their whole little wedding thing to jog his memory. But if you ask me, Ty had twenty years to shoot his shot, and he didn’t. He shouldn’t have signed up for the show in the first place, and the producers shouldn’t let him stay on now that they know. Give the rest of us a fair chance.” She looks over at Steve. “You’re being awfully quiet over there, Blue Eyes. What do you think?”

Steve doesn’t have an opinion one way or another about giving anyone a fair chance. His main concern is Tony’s safety, and he doesn’t like what it says that Ty is already coming in here with an emotional connection to the bachelorette. If Ty has a history of jealousy or stalkerish behavior, then it could mean trouble. But he can’t say any of that right now, so he just shrugs.

“I don’t like it,” he says honestly, “but it’s Tony’s choice, right? We don’t have the right to decide for him.”

“You asked us to be real and honest with you,” Bucky says when he sits down with Tony on the couch. “An’ that’s good, because ever since the accident where I lost my arm, I pretty much lost the ability to care about pretty lies so I’m always going to be real and honest.”

“Hey, that’s fine,” Tony says, reaching over to pat Bucky’s metal arm. It feels pretty solid under his hand, pretty heavy too, and Tony starts thinking about that vibranium T’Challa had gifted him. He knows it was meant for the arc reactor project, but maybe if he could figure out a way to make more—or to synthesize an alloy—he could redesign SI’s prosthetic line to… and he should probably be paying attention to what Bucky is saying.

“…not looking for the perfect Tony,” Bucky says. “I’m looking for the quirks and the flaws and all the imperfections that we both know are there. My Ma always said that if a marriage is going to work, then you gotta be upfront about your flaws, an’ I want this to work between you and me. So I’ll tell you one of my flaws right now: sometimes, I wake up an’ my arm is in so much pain that I pretty much retreat from the entire world. I can come across as pretty grumpy when that happens, but I don’t want you to think that it’s you, that you did something or that I’m mad at you, ‘cause odds are, nothing could be further from the truth.”

“I appreciate you tel—”

“Can I interrupt?”

The new voice makes Tony blink. He hadn’t been expecting anyone to cut in when he and Bucky are pretty obviously having a moment. It’s actually pretty unusual for anyone to interrupt someone else’s time with the bachelorette on the first night. They’re all trying to jockey for time with him, but Tony had specifically insisted on the first cocktail party stretching across three nights so that no one would have to worry about not being able to talk to him. He would have expected—hoped, really—that everyone would respect that, but here Justin is, clearly waiting for Tony to dismiss Bucky despite the fact that he’s in the middle of a sentence.

And the irritating part is that Tony can’t even really say no. He can, but it wouldn’t look good for the people watching once the season airs. The bachelorette is supposed to accept interruptions with grace and poise, not chew Justin out for breaking up a serious conversation.

“Yeah,” he says eventually. “That’s fine.” He gives Bucky an apologetic smile. “We’ll pick this up later, okay?”

They will, he vows to himself. He doesn’t want Bucky to leave here thinking that Tony isn’t serious about their conversation.

Steve slips off to the bathroom for a moment. When he comes back out, Gabe is leaning up against the opposite wall. Steve glances around, making sure that none of the other alphas are around. He doesn’t want word getting out that he’s meeting with the security team and some intelligent alpha putting two and two together.

When he’s convinced that they’re in the clear, he joins Gabe and asks softly, “What’s he been saying?”

Gabe wrinkles his nose, obviously disgusted. “Some pretty nasty things,” he replies. “Killian’s the only other alpha who understands everything Vanko’s been saying, but he thinks it’s amusing.”

“And what is it that they think is so amusing?” Steve asks darkly. He hadn’t liked the looks of either of them—Ivan’s smile gives him the creeps, and as for Aldrich, it’s just plain rude to take up three entire minutes for an introduction when there are other people waiting on him—but he’s not convinced that they’re actual dangers yet.

“Talk about laying claim to omegas, owning them—Vanko especially seems to be a bit of a sadist. The good thing is that I think Stark is on to him. I couldn’t get confirmation on the languages he speaks, but he always attends SI meetings in Russia.”

“He might have a translator,” Steve points out.

Gabe shrugs. “He might. Or that grossed-out look on his face whenever Vanko says something is genuine because he knows exactly what he’s saying.”

“Maybe,” Steve concedes. “We’ll wait until the rose ceremony. If Stark doesn't send him home—either of them—then I want a better background check than the one Pierce did on him. I don’t trust that they didn’t overlook something.”

“You got it, boss.” Gabe salutes him, and with a sigh, Steve heads back into the party.

“’After the Final Rose’ was really fun,” Tony says, as Thor helps him step down into the sunken seating area. He doesn’t really need the help, but he’s pretty big for an omega, and Thor makes him feel small, and he kind of likes that. It’s a novel experience for him. “You really impressed me, coming out there being very bold and confident. I like that in an alpha.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Thor tells him, one large hand resting to cover Tony’s knee. “It was a spur of the moment decision to be honest.”

“Yeah?” Tony asks.

“Indeed. You were very dynamic on that stage. Watching you interact with Nick, I wanted to do something to match that energy. I had planned to merely introduce myself and perhaps make a joke if you seemed amenable to it, but I thought that you deserved a lion, and not a cowardly one.”

“So you came out there and kissed me,” Tony finishes.

“Yes. I hope it wasn’t too bold.”

“No, I liked it,” he assures Thor quickly. “It was a nice kiss. You’re very good at that.”

“I’ve never received complaints,” Thor says, very assured of himself. If someone else had said it, Tony thinks he might have even found the comment arrogant, but confidence drapes over Thor like a cloak, and it just makes him all the more thrilling.

They’re not able to chat for too much longer before Nick comes out and lets Tony know that they’re all set up for him to film his confessionals for the night. Thor kisses his cheek before he goes, another bold choice but a sweet one after the conversation they’d been having.

“So, Tony,” Coulson says mildly when he sits down in the confessional room. Coulson used to be the producer of The Bachelorette before its cancellation, but apparently, Pierce has decided to step in and take a personal interest in this particular season, so Coulson is co-directing with Maria and apparently also handling the cameras for the confessionals. “You’ve met eleven alphas so far. How are you feeling about them?”

“Um, pretty good?” Tony says. It’s been a long night and he’s exhausted from the emotions running high, but he can definitely think of some frontrunners who have really impressed him tonight and a few that he’s pretty sure he might want to send home.

“Why don’t you break down how you’re feeling about each of them so far?”

“Okay, well, first there was Ty, and he’s…” Tony stops, not sure what to say about him. It’s been so overwhelming knowing that Ty has had a crush on him since they were kids. It makes his head spin just thinking about it. “He’s great, he really is. I feel so amazed by the fact that he’s liked me this entire time. It’s… seriously, knowing that if nothing else, there’s one alpha who’s here for me, it’s really incredible and it makes me feel so much more comfortable with this whole process.”

Coulson is quiet for a minute, which is pretty usual for him, so Tony just waits until he says, “And then you met Sam.”

“Yeah, and Sam is pretty great. He makes me feel very warm, like that’s just his personality, you know? He’s obviously really in touch with himself as a therapist and I like that he seems really grounded.” He laughs a bit. “Probably my friends would say that I need someone grounded in my life.

“Then there was Trevor, and he’s… I don’t know what to make of him yet. I think he’s funny, he’s obviously very passionate about what he does, but I also noticed him drinking a lot today, and I’m just not sure that that’s someone I want in my life.”

“What about Janet?”

Tony laughs brightly and takes a sip out of the water bottle one of the assistants had handed him when he walked in. “Oh man, Janet is a whirlwind in the best way. I love that she took the time to set up a bachelorette party for me, I love that she was willing to let me win even though she could have pretty easily taken it herself—I don’t always meet a lot of alphas willing to do that—I love that she’s obviously aware enough of the modeling side of her business to put on a fashion show for me even though she’s the designer. So, yeah, she’s pretty great.

“Um, and then there’s Ivan.” He winces. “I really hope Ivan doesn’t know that I know what he’s saying, because the more I listened to him when I wasn’t around, the more I’m convinced that my first reaction was right. I don’t think I really see a future with him.” Fortunately, he adds in his head. “I want someone who respects me as an omega, and I’m not convinced that that’s him.”

“What did you think about Clint?” Coulson prompts when he’s been quiet for too long.

“I like Clint,” Tony says immediately. “I think he’s fun. However, I’m not sure I see a future with him either. He’s great; I liked talking to him, but I’m not ready for kids yet, and it’s really obvious to me that he’s a very involved father. Those kids deserve a stepparent who wants to be a stepparent, but that’s not me.

“Emma’s great too. I think she’s a little too obsessed with money, but I can’t fault her for that, I guess. Most of the people who run in my parents’ circles are too obsessed with money.” And, to be fair, he himself has an Audi and multiple classic cars that cost him an insane amount of money all told. He can’t really judge her for bringing up finances on the first date.

“I like Bucky, but I wish I’d gotten the chance to talk to him longer. It was pretty frustrating being interrupted in the middle of a really serious conversation by Justin.”

“Are you sending Justin home, then?” Coulson asks.

Tony hesitates. “I don’t know yet. I’m not convinced that it wasn’t just nerves that made him interrupt us. It was irritating, but a little more understandable if he was worried about running out of time.”

He’ll have to send eight people home at the rose ceremony in two days, but he doesn’t want to make any decisions one way or another yet. There’s still two more days for people to impress the hell out of him—or anger him so much that he sends them home on the spot.

Coulson gives him some time to think about it, then asks. “How are you feeling about Christine?”

“Nervous,” Tony admits. “I know that she says she’s here for the right reasons, and everything is off the record for as long as she’s here, but I’m a pretty public, high-profile figure, and it’d be an exclusive like no one’s ever had before. I don’t know how comfortable I am keeping her around.”

“Which brings us to Thor. You two seem to get along pretty well.”

Tony laughs. “You could say that again,” he says, thinking of that kiss at After the Final Rose. “I really like Thor. If I hadn’t already given him a rose, I think he’d be a pretty strong contender for the First Impression rose. He’s pretty great—most of them are pretty great. I can really see myself falling in love here.”

When Tony doesn’t have anything else to say, Coulson says, “Are you ready to say goodnight, then?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, standing up. “I’ve got a lot to think about before tomorrow night.”

Chapter Text

Steve is the earliest riser out of everyone he knows. He’s the kind of person who likes to get up before dawn to go for a run and be back even before the sun rises. He doesn’t even need a cup of coffee to go with it, though it’s not something that he minds with his breakfast. The mansion doesn’t have anywhere for him to run with the paths dead-ending in gazebos or guesthouses or statuary, but it has an expansive gym with a treadmill, so he makes use of that for an hour before returning upstairs to his room for a shower.

By the time he makes it back downstairs to the kitchen to make himself breakfast—the production team only caters during the cocktail parties, but the kitchen is fully stocked for them to cook—a few of the other alphas have woken up. Stephen, Clint, May, and—to Steve’s surprise—Whitney are sitting around the breakfast room table, all sipping coffee.

“Morning,” he says, heading for the fridge to take stock of what he’s got. He throws a glance over his shoulder at the other alphas, pausing when he spots the oranges in the fruit bowl on the table. “I don’t suppose any of you are hungry? I can scramble enough eggs for all of us.”

“Not for me,” Stephen says gravely.

“Me neither,” Whitney says, patting her flat stomach. “I have to watch what I eat, keep my followers happy.”

Steve is inclined to think that they’d probably like to see her with fewer ribs sticking out, but he shrugs. He doesn’t even have TikTok, let alone follow her on it. He has no idea what her followers actually want, and he doesn’t have the right to judge her for whatever her job requires.

“May? Clint?” he checks.

“Eggs would be great, Steve,” May says gratefully, turning a warm smile on him. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, me too,” Clint echoes.

“Sure thing,” Steve agrees easily and pulls a few more eggs out of the fridge, along with some bacon and bowls of fruit.

When he’s done cooking and headed for the table, he finds that Whitney has moved onto complaining about how she didn’t get the chance to talk to Tony last night, but her sister had. Steve searches his memory and places a name with a face—Emma in the white gown with the heart-shaped face.

“You’ll have another chance tonight,” May points out as she spears a blueberry on her fork. Clint is already halfway through his eggs.

“Yeah, but it isn’t fair,” Whitney whines. Stephen mutters something uncomplimentary under his breath, gets up, and leaves. Steve kind of wishes he could go too; Whitney’s voice is fairly grating on his ears. But he’s only just started eating, and his mama didn’t raise someone to eat in his room when there was a perfectly good table right there. “You heard what Ty said. It’s that supremacy bias—”

“Primacy bias,” Clint corrects.

“Whatever. He met Emma first, so he’s more likely to remember her and not me.” Steve wonders had Whitney been standing, if she would have stamped her foot. “And it’s not right. I can see him as the future Mr. Frost, so he should at least meet me.”

“Now, hang on,” Steve interjects, feeling uncomfortable with the way Whitney talks about Tony. “It’s not about whether we can see him as the future whoever, but about whether he can see us as the future Mr. or Mrs. Stark.”

“Excuse me,” Whitney says, overly sweetly, “but I’m the alpha. He should take my last name.”

Clint scoffs, spraying egg everywhere. May not-so-subtly shifts further away from him. “Oh come on, Tony’s a helluva lot more famous than you are, and you think he’s gonna take your name?”

“I’m an influencer—”

“And Tony’s a doctor,” Steve argues. “Multiple times over. He worked fucking hard for those degrees. Ditching his titles just because you subscribe to some antiquated beliefs about last names is pretty shitty, don’t you think? But you’re missing the point, just so you can complain about last names: it’s not about what we want. It’s about what Tony wants. That’s why he’s the bachelorette, and we’re one of thirty.”

“Well said,” Clint applauds him as Whitney huffs and flounces away. “She’s been bitching about that all morning. Thanks for shutting her up.”

“Too bad she’ll be right back at it tomorrow if she doesn’t get to talk to Tony tonight,” May says mercilessly. Clint groans and nearly thumps his head right into his plate of eggs only to catch himself at the last second.

Steve scrubs a hand over his face. He hadn’t meant to get so riled up about it and start a fight. He just doesn’t like seeing an alpha like Whitney try to put an omega like Tony in what she thinks is his place just because of a quirk of biology when Tony’s clearly worth dozens of her, and that’s without even knowing him.

“I think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” he says, trying to lighten the mood.

May laughs, “What, because Little Miss Princess got all huffy? Don’t apologize for that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna go back to bed anyway,” Steve says lightly, grabbing one of the oranges from the table. He tosses it up in the air, bounces it off his elbow, and catches it in his other hand. “See you later tonight.”

He doesn’t actually go back to bed. It was just a ruse to get him out of there without suspicion. Instead, he climbs out his window, swings himself up onto the roof of the mansion, and walks across until he’s closer to the guesthouse. A convenient tree is planted at the corner of the house, and he’s able to climb onto one of the branches, shimmy his way down the tree, and make his way to the guesthouse.

His team are eating their own breakfast—also eggs and bacon, he notes approvingly. He’d been half-worried they were going to subside off of donuts for the next ten weeks. They look up when he walks inside, but most of them go back to their meals. Only Sharon keeps looking at him, raising her hand in greeting.

“I got your message,” Steve says, lobbing the orange he’d swiped at her.

She catches it easily. “Oh good,” she remarks. “I was worried you’d forget our code.”

“How could I forget it?” Steve laughs. “You kept ambushing me with it until I remembered.”

Peggy reaches across the table to cuff her sister’s head. “Stop trying to make your fruit code happen.”

“It’s not going to happen,” everyone else chimes in.

“It will,” Sharon says primly. “Just look at Steve.”

Steve rolls his eyes, feeling a lot more at ease now that he’s surrounded by his team, people who like him and know what he’s doing here, instead of trying to hide it from Tony, the other alphas, and the all-seeing cameras.

“Anyway,” he cuts into the noise, “what’ve you got for me?”

The chatter dies away. Everyone exchanges glances with each other, but Steve can’t tell what any of them mean until Sharon says, “Nothing. Stone comes back clean as a whistle.”

“Really,” Steve states.

“Really,” she replies. “He’s twenty-six years old, met Tony when they were in second grade—”

“Isn’t Tony two years younger than him?” he interrupts.

She shrugs. “Stone’s birthday was too late in the year to start with the rest of his agemates, and Tony skipped first grade. He and his family moved back to England later that year, and by all accounts, he hasn’t thought of Tony since. He’s had a few omega partners in the past; none of them have anything bad to say about him. No stalking charges, no harassment, no jealousy. And if he’s got an obsession with Tony that made him pop up now, then it’s very well-hidden. He’s seeing a therapist, but the most the files we hacked had to say about him was that he shows tendencies of narcissistic personality disorder but not enough for a diagnosis.”

It all looks good on paper, and Steve does trust his team’s ability to do a background check, but he still feels uneasy. “So why did he show up if he’s not obsessed with Tony?”

“Could be he’s trying to get at the Stark fortune,” Dum Dum says around a mouthful of bacon. “Finance report said that Viastone’s profits have been dropping the last seven fiscal quarters in a row.”

“Or it could just be that there are genuine emotions there that Stone didn’t even realize existed until he found out about the show,” Gabe says. “I know he gives you and every other alpha there the heebie-jeebies, but it’s a possibility that you just don’t like the competition.”

“I’m not competing for Tony,” Steve feels compelled to point out.

“That wasn’t my point, and you know it.”

Steve does know it, but he isn’t convinced by what any of them are saying. There’s just something about Ty that rubs him the wrong way. “Keep an eye out anyway,” he orders. “Maybe it’s just instinct, but Phillips always said gut instinct was right eighty-percent of the time.”

Most of them salute lazily. The others nod. “Will do, boss,” Morita says.

“What do you have on everyone else?”

“Well, al-Wazar definitely has his fingers in some shady pies,” Sharon says. “Nothing illegal, though, just ethically dubious.”

“Great,” Steve sighs. “My favorite.”

“Everyone else, though, is fine. Some kind of awful alphas that the producers picked out, but maybe Tony likes that kind of stuff.”

“What about Whitney Frost?”

Dum Dum frowns. “What about her? We didn’t even bother checking her out. She’s just an influencer, right?”

“Yeah, but she was spouting off some pretty shitty things about omegas this morning.”

It’s Sharon’s turn to frown. “Like what?”

“The usual orientationist bullshit,” Steve says, dropping heavily into one of the chairs. “Omegas should be subservient to their alphas and take their last name and pop out babies until they’re physically unable to.”

Sharon’s frown deepens. “That’s weird,” she says slowly. Dum Dum, Falsworth, and Gabe all nod.

Steve sits up straighter. “Weird, how?”

“Weird as in we got the raw footage from the day Tony found out he was going to be the bachelorette and during the first take, he laid out stipulations for his agreement.”

“Sure, we knew that already,” Steve says, puzzled. “He has to get the full week—”

“And he doesn’t want any alpha who believes in orientation essentialism,” Sharon finishes.

Steve stares at her for a long minute. “Like omegas being subservient to their alphas, taking their last name, and popping out babies.”

Sharon nods.

“Shit,” he sighs, running his hand over his face. “What do you think, Pierce was going for drama?”

“Probably,” Falsworth says.

“Shit,” he repeats. “Alright, Sharon, I want you to get that information to Nick—not Tony’s requirements, he was there for that; what I was saying about Whitney, that’s what I want you to tell him. I’d tell him myself, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get close to him.”

“Why don’t you just skip Nick and tell Tony yourself?” Sharon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Because Tony doesn’t have a reason to believe me,” Steve says. “He’s known me for five minutes. But he’ll believe it if it comes from Nick, and I think that Nick would tell him. He helped raise Tony. I think he genuinely wants Tony to find love.”

“Makes sense,” Dum Dum says, slapping the table. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it to him. You should get back up to the house before someone goes looking for you.”

He’s halfway out the door before Sharon catches up to him, calling, “Wait!”

“Yeah?” he asks, turning around to face her.

She studies him for a long moment and then says, “You know, Tony’s a pretty decent person.”

Steve blinks at her. “I know that.” He read Tony’s dossier; he knows that Tony spearheaded the prosthetics and clean energy initiatives at Stark Industries.

“No, just—you know he’s paying the salaries of every single alpha on this show for the duration of their time here? Personally, out of his private bank accounts? And for every alpha who lost or quit their job so they could come on the show, he’s set them up with an interview with SI so they have someplace to work while they get back on their feet once the show is over?”

No, he hadn’t known that, but—“What does that have to do with anything?”

Sharon gives him an unamused look. “I’m just saying that is it the worst thing if you actually maybe consider giving dating Tony a fair shot?”

Steve doesn’t even bother dignifying that with a response, just spins on his heel and marches back up toward the mansion. Yes, actually, it would be a bad thing. He’s not here to find love; he’s here to keep Tony safe, and mixing business and pleasure never ends well.

Dusk finds Tony back in the same gold outfit in the mansion. He’d spent the day going through the mental notes on the alphas that he took, writing them all down and pinning them up on the bulletin board he’d informed production was coming with him whether they liked it or not. They can limit his access to technology, which is how he’d usually organize his thoughts on the alphas, but they can’t stop him from taking those notes at all.

Out of the alphas he talked to last night, he’s got two Definitely Nots, two Definitely Yeses, and a whole lot of Maybes. Hopefully, the people that he meets tonight will help him decide on some of those Maybes from last night, though he’s sure that he’ll end up with just as many Maybes from tonight instead.

The alphas seem a little more relaxed tonight, a little less like they’re jockeying for position. Maybe it’s because the stress of the first night has been lifted off of them. Whatever else happens, things didn’t go so badly wrong that Tony eliminated someone on the very first night, so they’re able to relax and be a little more like themselves. Not that Tony thinks they weren’t being themselves last night, but nerves makes everyone act a little off, and now they’ve got that out of the way.

It's nearing the end of the night, when Tony is just finishing up a great conversation with T’Challa (he wasn’t allowed to go to his workshop to start working with the vibranium he was gifted, but no one ever suspects that a watch contains his AI, and JARVIS had informed him that the initial scans show promise), that Nick comes and finds him.

“Hey,” Tony says brightly, standing to greet him. “Haven’t seen you all night. Where’ve you been?”

“Tony,” Nick says, looking more serious than he usually does on the show, more like the uncle Tony grew up with. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tony says. His smile fades. Nick does not look happy, and he can’t help but wonder what wrench is about to be thrown into the evening. It’s not that unusual in the show’s format, but Tony had hoped, given his history with the production team and how frequently they told him during pre-filming that they were going to make this as smooth and as painless as possible because so many of them grew up with him, that he could at least get through the first rose ceremony without drama. “What’s going on?”

“Come with me,” Nick says, ushering Tony out towards the driveway with a hand on his back.

T’Challa returns inside, looking thoughtful and somewhat irritated, though it’s hard to tell. He’s a master at concealing his emotions. Steve had gotten the chance to talk to him earlier in the day while he was making lunch, and he likes the man.

“Something happen while you were talking to Tony?” Bucky asks, looking up from the cheese plate he was studying mistrustfully (something about not liking cheese with names he can’t pronounce but Steve only heard the tail end of that conversation).

“Tony probably sent him packing,” Justin chuckles. “You can’t try too hard. It just makes you look desperate.”

“We were having a perfectly lovely conversation, thank you,” T’Challa bites out, looking slightly more irritated. “Nick interrupted us to talk to Tony.”

Oh, Steve realizes. So it’s going down now. He’d wondered if it would, given that Whitney had snagged Tony earlier in the night to talk to him. She’d left looking pleased as punch, but Steve had caught a glimpse of Tony’s expression afterwards and he’d looked exhausted—not an uncommon reaction when it comes to Whitney.

He glances in her direction, but if she has any idea of the storm that’s about to come down on top of her, she’s not showing it. She’s blithely sipping her champagne as she talks to Helen, who’s nodding vacantly with a glazed look in her eyes.

Well, better start gathering everyone up so they can all hear it at the same time.

“How are you doing?” Nick asks him as he leads Tony to one of the production tents set up on the driveway.

“I’m doing good,” Tony says confusedly. This has to do with one of the contestants, but he can’t think of what. Even Ivan has been on his best behavior since last night (and truthfully, Tony still isn’t convinced that he isn’t just a sadist, not an orientationist). “I think I’m doing good, anyway. You’d tell me if I was fucking this all up, right? Oops,” he adds, glancing at one of the cameras following them guiltily.

“I’d tell you,” Nick assures him. “But I wanted to talk to you now about something one of the production assistants caught when they were reviewing the dailies. Darcy, can we bring up the kitchen cam from this morning?”

For the time that they’re on the show, the alphas are under constant surveillance—and they know it since it’s written into their contracts. Every room in the mansion holds a hidden camera, with the exceptions of the bathrooms and bedrooms. The footage from the mansion is rarely shown during the show outside of date announcements and reactions, but there’s always that risk. The hidden camera in the kitchen is what gets pulled up now.

Tony watches silently as the conversation between Whitney, Steve, Clint, and May goes down. He can’t say that he’s surprised by the stance that Whitney takes (he is pleasantly surprised that the other alphas so readily stood up for him, given that no one would have blamed them for being nonconfrontational). Plenty of alphas believe that it’s their name, their legacy, that should be carried on. He’s somewhat surprised that ditzy, vapid Whitney is the first to voice this opinion out loud—and he’s very surprised that she made it on the show at all, given his stipulations—but not surprised that it exists at all.

“I swear I didn’t know about it when we found her,” Nick says once the tape has finished rolling. “I wouldn’t have let her on if I did.”

Tony is inclined to believe him. He knows that Nick was the one who threw his name out there for consideration as the bachelorette in the first place, and Nick hasn’t hidden anything from him so far. Besides, it’s telling, he thinks, that Nick had used the word “I.” Tony glances over at Pierce, watching them silently through slightly narrowed eyes. Pierce isn’t usually so hands-on as the head producer for the entire franchise. Coulson is the producer in charge of The Bachelorette, it should be him standing there, but Tony had been told that Pierce wanted to personally oversee the return of this show.

Tony doesn’t trust Pierce to have his best interests in mind for a second.

The best interests of the show, sure. The best interests of the ratings, absolutely. But not Tony’s best interests.

“What about you?” he asks quietly, pointedly. “Did you know about this when she was cast?”

To his credit, Pierce scoffs immediately, “Of course not. You think I’d break your contract that quickly?”

Truthfully, yes, Tony does. His stipulations closed an avenue of drama for the show, and he knows that Pierce hadn’t appreciated that. But there’s no proof of any wrongdoing, and given Whitney’s personality, it’s entirely possible that they hadn’t picked up on her outdated views. And like it or not, he can’t just accuse Pierce of ignoring the contract that Tony had signed for the sake of better ratings. But he’s on to him now. If anything else happens, he knows exactly who to look at first.

So now the question is what to do about Whitney.

“Why are you showing me this now?” he asks eventually, scrubbing his hand over his face (lightly enough not to ruin the makeup, of course). “You know I don’t like her. You know I think she’s annoying. You know she’s going home tomorrow. I said as much during my confessional earlier tonight. What’s the point of telling me now?”

Nick looks at Pierce first, and Tony has his answer.

“Of course,” he says, suddenly exhausted. “Of course it’s about the drama. You’re not content with me sending her home at the rose ceremony because I think she’s irritating. It has to be now, in front of everyone, so you can make a big dramatic moment out of it. Of course.”

Pierce doesn’t say anything. To his displeasure, neither does Nick. Naturally. It’s okay to preach wanting him to be happy and find love, but when it comes down to it, it’s still a business. Tony is going to find love here despite the producers, not because of them.

“Fine,” he says, more than ready for tonight to be over. It started out so nicely, and now look at it. “Fine. I’ll go kick her out.”

He stalks out of the tent and back towards the house, pausing only once to look at Pierce and tell him, “Thank you for not even giving me one week before you started pulling this bullshit. Really, I appreciate it so much.”

When Tony is gone, Nick whirls on Alex. “I told you,” he snaps, sticking his finger directly in Alex’s face. “I told you it would’ve been better to let him make his own choice about how to handle this. What the hell were you thinking, bringing her on, anyway?”

Alex looks supremely unconcerned about Nick’s anger, easily sidestepping him to join Rumlow at one of the other screens. “He’ll get over it,” Alex says dismissively. “He’s about to become the most popular bachelorette in franchise history. He won’t care about it, then.”

“Whitney,” Tony bites out, baring his teeth at her. “Do you think we could talk for a minute?”

“Uh-oh,” someone in the room murmurs.

Whitney looks very nervous at his abrupt shift in mood, but she gets up and follows him. Well, at least she didn’t insist on having their confrontation right then and there. Tony has seen that happen on previous seasons, and it’s always even more awkward than the bachelorette having to inform everyone afterwards why the contestant had to leave. He’s vaguely aware of one of the bodyguards shifting to follow them. He appreciates the thought, since tensions are running high and it’s the perfect moment for something to go wrong, but he’s pretty sure he can handle an overhyped socialite like Whitney fucking Frost.

“So,” he states when it’s just the two of them (and the cameraperson) (and the bodyguard). “How are you feeling tonight, Whitney?”

“Uh, good?” she guesses. “Nervous?”

He seizes on that. “Nervous, huh? You think that’s because you’re really hoping I’ll give you a rose at the ceremony?”

“Wel—”

“Or maybe it’s because you don’t know how I’ll react to you wanting me to ditch my name and the title that I worked my ass off to get just so that you can make yourself feel like you’re more important than your omega.”

Whitney washes pale. It’s not a good look on her. She looks almost sickly, an ugly shade of yellow under the lights.

He smiles tightly at her. “I heard that you think omegas belong in the kitchen, Whitney, which is funny, considering I stand to inherit the largest tech company in the world.”

“I don’t know what you think you heard,” Whitney manages, “but I swear that—”

“You swear what? That you didn’t tell three alphas at breakfast this morning that I should be taking your name? Because that’s not what I heard. That’s what I saw on the dailies just now.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she scrambles to say. “I only meant that I could see you as my future omega, that’s all.”

“If that’s what you meant, then you have a funny way of saying it,” Tony says flatly. “You explicitly said the words ‘Omegas should take their alpha’s last name.’”

“Well, yes, but—”

“But what?” He waits, but Whitney doesn’t seem to have a rebuttal. He’s got her pinned neatly, he knows. She clearly didn’t realize even the kitchen was filmed (he has to wonder if she read her contract at all). She can’t claim that she was saying something dramatic to get attention when she clearly thought it was a private moment.

“I am the most famous omega in the world,” he says when it becomes obvious that she’s not going to even bother to keep trying to defend herself. “I earned my doctorates. My name is tied into my fame, and because of that, I will never give that up just to appease some alpha’s ego. So since we’re obviously not compatible, I think you should leave.”

That gets her to say something, even though all she does is gasp, “Leave?”

“Yep,” he says ruthlessly. “Right now. In fact, I’d venture a guess that Luis already has your bags in the car.”

“Wait!” she exclaims desperately. “Seriously? You can’t just—”

“I can, actually,” he corrects her. “Mine is actually the only opinion that matters here. And I want you to leave. I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Whitney stares at him for a moment, then spits, “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. But I do—”

“Nope,” he says, standing up. “You don’t get to do this. You’re going home. Go.”

“But—”

“Go.”

He has to keep repeating it, keep getting her to move her damn feet, which just keep dragging like she can’t really believe that he doesn’t want to be with her. It just makes him more and more irritated and more and more done with the entire night. But he still has a few people left to talk to if he doesn’t want to have to cut times short tomorrow night, which he doesn’t. The alphas he talks to tomorrow deserve his full attention, not him having to give them less time so that he can meet with more people because he was in too bad of a mood to do it the previous night.

Once Whitney has finally left, he stalks back inside, breathing heavily. This has just been so frustrating. Tonight should have been as smooth and easy as last night. Production should’ve done their fucking jobs and actually looked into the alphas they were bringing on the show—or they shouldn’t have ignored what he wanted so they could create some early drama. It was unnecessary and shitty towards him, and he just wants to go back to his hotel room and curl up and watch James Bond wreck some bad guys’ days. But it’s not over yet. He still has two more people to talk to tonight, and he needs to get through it.

“Hey,” he says, grateful that someone had the forethought to get all the alphas in one room so he can talk to them all at once. It makes things a lot easier. “Whitney had to go home.”

“Is she okay?” Helen asks.

“Yeah,” Tony assures her. “It’s just that I don’t really appreciate finding out that someone doesn’t respect me as a person because of my biology. I deserve better than that, and I wasn’t going to let someone like that stick around, so I sent her home.” Silence falls over the room. Tony could hear a pin drop. “I told you all that I was looking for someone who would be real with me. Whitney lied to my face that she hadn’t said things that I have on camera. I didn’t appreciate that either. But I’m going to give you all a chance: if anyone here doesn’t respect me either, if you think that I’m going to sit at home and cook you dinner, if you think I’m going to take your last name or let you take over my company, then there’s the door. Right there. You can walk through it right now. Anyone?”

No one moves. He levels a look at Ivan. He’s still not sure how he feels about the guy. On the one hand, Ivan has said some things that do feel a lot more blatant than what Whitney said, but Tony isn’t convinced that it’s not some weird bedroom-sexual thing. Seriously, who would state out loud that they want to own someone if it’s not some weird bedroom-sexual thing.

Ivan, however, doesn’t budge, just meets his gaze steadily. Well, guess that answers that question. It’s a weird bedroom-sexual thing. Still kind of off-putting, but not as much as the alternative.

“Okay,” he says after giving everyone long enough to leave if they wanted. “Great. Um, I need a minute because—that was ridiculous, and I don’t—yeah.” He turns and walks out.

Peter calls, “Take your time.”

Tony raises his hand in acknowledgement and slips outside, the door slamming shut behind him.

“Well, fuck,” Bucky mutters once Tony has left.

“Yeah, that just killed the mood,” Peter agrees. “Thanks, Whitney.”

Steve ducks his head, feeling bad. He knows he was the one who got the ball rolling on this, but he hadn’t thought it would go down like that. He hadn’t thought the producers would force Tony himself to confront Whitney when they were the ones who fucked up by not properly vetting her. He kind of wishes that he hadn’t said anything at all, knowing now how it played out. It’s obvious that Tony is furious and hurt, and even though Steve doesn’t have any interest in him personally, he still doesn’t like seeing him like that. Tony deserved to have all thirty alphas respect him.

But it had to be said. Tony deserved to know the truth, and if Whitney had continued all the way to the end, if Tony had actually chosen her, Steve wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself for not speaking up when he had the chance.

“We should give him a few minutes,” T’Challa says into the murmuring.

“Agreed,” Loki says. “It wouldn’t do to rush into something like that.”

“Yeah,” Christine agrees. “Just let him gather his thoughts and relax and pull himself together. No one likes to be seen after something like that.”

Everyone murmurs their agreement. Everyone, that is, Steve realizes, except for Ty—who’s nowhere to be seen.

Tony has pulled off his boots, rolled up his pants legs, and has his feet dangling in the pool when Ty finds him.

“Hi,” Ty says gently.

Tony grunts at him. He doesn’t want to muster up the energy to say hi.

“Can I join you?”

“It’s a free country,” Tony replies since that needs a response apparently. Ty doesn’t pull off his boots, too dignified for that. He just sits at the edge of the pool, legs crossed underneath him. Tony doesn’t quite know how to feel. Part of him is irritated that he wasn’t given the chance to get his head back on straight before someone immediately came to find him. Another part of him is glad that someone immediately came to find him.

“How are you feeling?” Ty asks after a minute. That part of him that’s glad grows just a little larger. Ty isn’t here to talk about himself. He’s here to offer up some comfort. He’s here for Tony.

After a moment, Tony says, “Angry.”

He’s angry at himself, a bit, for letting himself get sucked into Pierce’s game, but mostly, he’s mad at Pierce and the rest of the production team for making him play this game in the first place. There was no reason why he had to send Whitney home tonight after making a big fuss out of what she said. He hates it, it’s disrespectful, and he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life with someone like that, but he could have waited until the rose ceremony. He’d already decided after their conversation earlier that he wanted to send her home.

But no. There had to be drama.

“I don’t blame you for being angry with her. It wasn’t right what Whitney said about you. We were all thinking it,” Ty says. “And you just seemed really upset when you left, so I just wanted to be here for you and to give you a hug, if you wanted one, and maybe offer you some encouragement if you’re up for it.”

“A hug actually sounds really nice,” Tony admits.

“Yeah?” Ty asks, immediately lifting up his arm for Tony to snuggle up against him. Ty is warm and solid against him, and it really does feel nice. “I know it’s hard to see someone not be here for you as you, just for what you represent to them. It hurts me too, to see you so caught off-guard by that. You were so happy when I first saw you, and I don’t like seeing you upset now.”

“Thanks,” Tony says. “I just—I don’t know any of you yet. I don’t know why you’re here. I have to figure that out for myself, and to stand there at the beginning of the night and tell you all that I was looking for someone who would be real and honest with me only for her to turn around and lie to me… yeah. It was awful.”

He doesn’t say anything about his frustration with the production team. It would only be cut from the recording anyway, and he doesn’t feel ready to admit that it hasn’t even been two days and he’s already failed at keeping Pierce in line. He and the production team are already at odds; that has to be a record on this show or something, and he’s not ready to admit that to someone else.

“I get it,” Ty says, squeezing his shoulder. “But I just want you to know that I am here for you. I’ve been honest with you since the moment we met, and I’ll keep being honest with you, because that’s what you deserve. You deserve someone who respects that you are the most badass omega they’ll ever meet, not someone to be kept locked up in a house while they make themselves look good.”

“Yeah?” Tony asks, kicking his feet against the side of the pool. “You’re here for me?”

“Yeah,” Ty says. “I’m not just here to win a couple roses. I’m here to win your heart. I’m here for you.”

Tony’s heart skips a beat, and he swears he can hear the romantic music they’re going to play over this scene when they show it during the premiere.

“I can feel that,” he says and leans up to kiss Ty’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Chapter Text

Tony looks at the bulletin board in his room. The Bachelor Nation team has him set up in the Malibu Beach Inn, which Tony has taken as a concession to his celebrity and his wealth given that his dad’s reaction to finding out where his son would be spending the first three weeks of his time on the show was to comment that they’d only given him a La Quinta. To be fair, the La Quinta in Malibu is still very nice, but since Tony’s room at the Malibu Beach is oceanfront, he suspects that who he is has more to do with the selection than any kind of extra money lying around.

He has ten alphas to meet with tonight. Ten alphas each night of the cocktail party had always been his plan, only thrown off because Justin had interrupted his conversation with Bucky the first night and then everything with Whitney the previous night. It’ll be another long night, meeting all ten of them, but hopefully, there won’t be any more drama, and he’ll be able to return to his hotel room for a good night’s sleep before returning to the mansion tomorrow morning for the rose ceremony.

He looks over his notes on the last ten alphas left. He hasn’t talked to any of them personally yet, but he’s been able to pick up on tidbits here and there just observing them through the windows and whatnot. Pepper fidgets with her champagne glass when she’s nervous. Stephen’s hands shake sometimes before he catches them. Loki is a picky eater.

And then there’s Steve.

Steve intrigues him. He’s the only one that Tony doesn’t have any notes on other than that he spends his time mostly lurking around the edges of whatever group he’s in. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that Steve doesn’t know the format of the show, but that’s ridiculous. No one goes on The Bachelorette without having seen enough of the show to know that standing back is the worst thing someone can do on it. But that’s exactly what Steve does.

He's the only alpha who hasn’t even tried to approach him. And yes, Tony is trying to make sure that he makes the time to meet all of them, but time is ephemeral. It slips away faster than sand through an hourglass. He appreciates that Steve isn’t being pushy—it has to be a strategy, right? He can’t really be relying on the time—but it’s such a risk to take.

Well, there’ll be time enough to meet him tonight. Tony will have to make sure of it. Someone so intriguing can’t slip through his fingers just yet.

“Dr. Stark?” one of his makeup artists asks, knocking on his door. “Are you ready?”

He turns away from the bulletin board. “Yeah,” he calls back. “I’m ready.”

One more night. And then—the rose ceremony.

“Last night was intense, huh?” Rumiko asks, sitting down with him in one of the alcoves off the pool.

“Yeah,” Tony muses—

“Cut!” Maria calls, interrupting the two of them. “Rumiko, the editing will make it look like this all happened in one night. Can you rephrase your sentence so it flows better with the editing?”

“Oh!” Rumiko exclaims, her cheeks flushing pink. “Of course. My bad.” Tony appreciates the reminder as well. He hadn’t even picked up on Rumiko’s slip.

“Thanks. And—action!”

“Everything that happened with Whitney was intense, huh?” Rumiko asks.

“Yeah,” Tony says again.

“Are you feeling alright?” she says, laying her hand on top of his where it rests on his leg. Tony flips his hand over and intertwines their fingers together. Her hand is more delicate than his, less calloused, but no less comforting for that. It’s not always about feeling smaller than someone, though that’s a feeling that Tony loves. It’s about fitting perfectly together, and their hands do.

“Yeah,” he says after a bit. “A little shaken. You don’t like to hear that someone has some really awful ideas about your entire orientation, and she was trying to feed me some bullshit for a little while, but she’s gone now, right? Now, I get to focus on the rest of you instead of wasting my time on her. You all are the ones who are here for me, as me, not for some ideal of what you think an omega should be, so I don’t want to keep thinking about Whitney because it’s pointless when I could be giving me and you a chance instead.”

Rumiko beams at him.

“Alphas,” Nick says, coming through the main room. “Don’t mind me, I’m just leaving this here.”

This is the First Impression rose, which he lays down on the coffee table on a really gorgeous slab of petrified wood (or, Steve supposes, stone that’s been painted to look like petrified wood). The mood in the room shifts as soon as he puts down that rose, everyone straightening up, eyeing the rose like a bomb that might go off at any moment.

Steve doesn’t understand the fear. At the end of the day, it’s just a rose. There are still twenty-one more roses to give out in the morning—twenty, actually, he amends. He’d nearly forgotten that Thor already has a rose. The First Impression rose, despite a good indicator of how Tony is feeling at the end of the first week, isn’t a prediction of how the rest of the season will go, according to his conversation with Sharon. Only about ten percent of the winners from the show received the First Impression rose.

But everyone else seems to take it as a sign, giving the rose nervous glances from the corners of their eyes.

“Well, that’s a game changer,” Bucky says once Nick has gone, presumably to tell Tony, who’s currently talking to Aldrich, that the rose is on the table whenever he’s ready for it.

“Yep,” Clint agrees. He leans back against the sofa. “How are we all feeling about our chances?”

“Now, Ms. Potts, tell me, what is it like working with my mother?” Tony asks. Pepper starts to open her mouth. “Keep in mind that if you’re mean to her, that will reflect on how I think about you.”

Pepper laughs. Tony is only partially joking, but really, it comes down to what she says. And what she says is, “Working with your mom is an absolute dream come true, and I’d say that even if staying here didn’t depend on what I said.”

Relieved, Tony grins at her. “Yeah?” he asks. He’s never heard from anyone that they didn’t like working for his mom, unless they were embezzling money from the foundation or doing something else equally shitty (not that he takes those opinions seriously), but it’s always nice to hear it again.

“Absolutely. She’s the best employer I’ve ever had. And, oh my god, her collection is a dream.”

“I don’t know anything about art,” Tony confesses. “Mom has tried many times to get me interested in it, but the most I know about it is that if I want a great Christmas present for her, Monets are always a good place to start.”

Pepper blinks, presumably taken aback by the casual way he tossed out spending money on a Monet, but she takes it in stride easily enough. “At least you know that,” she says. “I know too many men who are terrible at remembering what the women in their life want.”

“Fair enough,” he says cheerfully. Tony’s experience is that that divide lies more along the lines of alpha vs omega than man vs women, but who is he to dictate her life to her? “Can you guess what kind of art I like?”

She narrows her eyes thoughtfully. “Modern art,” she decides after a moment. “I think you’d like that it seems very straightforward.”

“Got it in one,” he agrees. He likes that a line is never just a line. Most art goes right over his head because it is so straightforward. What’s the point of painting a picture of a party that’s just a picture of a party? If art is supposed to be about interpretation and mystique, then shouldn’t there actually be some in the art? Modern art, though, he likes that it’s simple at first glance but never what it appears to be. His mom, though, despairs of his views on every other type of art.

“What drew you to the Maria Stark Foundation?” he asks. “There are other ways to get involved in the art world.”

“True,” Pepper says. “I was even going to be an artist. I majored in art history. But then I was featured in one of Maria’s Rising Star showcases, and while I was listening to everyone else talk about their pieces, I realized that what I loved most about art was getting to talk about it with other people, not so much creating it myself. When I started job hunting, Maria was hiring a new curator, and I thought it’d be nice to work for the woman who made me realize what it really was that I wanted out of this career.”

Tony smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “That sounds like my mom.”

“Steve, can we borrow you for a quick confessional?” Wong, one of the cameramen, asks.

“Uh, sure?” Steve asks. He looks over his shoulder. Tony is talking to Raza and feeling some kind of way about whatever Raza is telling him, judging by the eyebrow that’s inching steadily closer to his hairline.

To Steve’s surprise, none of his team are waiting in the confessional room to tell him anything.

“Wait,” he says. “You actually needed me for a confessional?”

Wong looks askance at him. “Yes? You’re the only contestant who hasn’t done one yet.”

“But I’m not a contestant.”

“You’re on this show, aren’t you?”

Steve sighs. “Not a real contestant.”

“It’ll look suspicious if you don’t do a confessional. So sit down and tell us how you’re feeling about the First Impression rose.”

“I don’t feel any kind of way about it,” Steve says confusedly. “I haven’t even talked to Tony.” And he probably won’t, unless Tony goes and seeks him out, which is unlikely when there are plenty of other alphas vying for his attention. Talking to Tony isn’t important, anyway. What’s important is getting the measure of the actual contestants.

“Alright, then tell us that you’re nervous about not talking to Tony yet.”

“But I’m not nervous.” Whether he talks to Tony or not, he’s sure the producers have a way of making sure that he stays on the show.

Wong sighs. “Sit down and do the damn confessional, Rogers.”

Steve sits down and does the confessional.

“It’s been a crazy night,” Carol says as they’re sitting down on one of the upstairs balconies overlooking the pool.

“But a good one,” Tony tells her.

“Whitney and all?”

“Whitney and all. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Carol says immediately. “Great, actually. I’m so happy to be here. My best friend, Maria, she’s such a huge fan of this show. She was so excited for me when I was selected. Her daughter, Monica, she actually screamed so loud she scared my cat.”

Tony smiles wistfully. “My friend, Rhodey—the Air Force pilot I was telling you about—he was the same way when I told him.”

“Maybe my Maria and your Rhodey would get along.”

“Maybe,” Tony says with a laugh. He doubts it actually. Rhodey isn’t really one for kids who aren’t related to him—he’s great with his niece, but that’s about it.

“I’ve got a question for you, now,” Carol says. “Are your bags packed? Because I’ve got the jet waiting right outside.”

Tony laughs again. “Oh yeah? Sure, absolutely, where are we going?”

“You tell me,” Carol says, winking at him. “I’m just the pilot. It’s up to you where we decide to go.”

“Somewhere warm, then,” Tony decides. It’s unseasonably cold for this late in the year, but they are up in the mountains. Whatever the case may be, Tony has been freezing every single night for the last three nights in a row. He much prefers being warm.

“Somewhere warm, I can do that,” Carol says. “How about Tahiti?”

“I hear it’s a magical place,” Tony says, thinking about when the show had spent a week there about three years before Betty. Coulson had come back bursting with stories, brown as a nut. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to fly a plane, you know.”

“No kidding?”

“Yep. Rhodey, though, he says that I shouldn’t be trusted anywhere near a plane. I cause too many explosions.”

Carol throws her head back, laughing. “Probably not the best place for you, then.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I think I could figure it out.”

“I guess I am kind of the perfect person to teach you,” Carol says casually, throwing her arm over the back of the couch. Her fingertips brush Tony’s shoulder, warm and inviting.

“And just think, if we’re fast enough, Rhodey won’t be able to catch us.”

“I feel like your Rhodey would probably have something to say about that,” Carol teases.

“Too bad,” Tony declares. “We’ll be all the way in Tahiti by then.”

The night is almost over, Steve thinks with some relief, watching Stephen come back inside after his talk with Tony. He really isn’t cut out for this kind of thing. It’s exhausting, feeling like he has to be On every single second of the day. The entire mansion is wired for filming, even when the crew isn’t there; he feels so performative, saying mindless things about not getting to talk to Tony yet and how impressive he is, just so that someone doesn’t go to Tony and tells him he’s a fake.

And it’s only the first week.

Steve figures he’ll probably have a good enough measure of everyone to bow out somewhere around Week 5. By that point, he’ll know if anyone left is the kind of person to hurt the bachelorette just for being refused. And if they’re not, then he can duck out and leave the rest of the job to his team. He only needs to get through another four weeks.

But that’s still four more weeks.

The only saving grace is that the first rose ceremony is in the morning. He doesn’t need to worry about the cameras for another three days after that when the dates start up.

It can’t come soon enough.

“I’m excited to be here with you, Tony,” Loki tells him once they’ve finished up talking about his family’s shipping business. “I will admit, I was skeptical when I first came here. I had trouble understanding how you could fall in love with someone you’ve only known for ten weeks. However… having met you now, having watched you handle everything this cocktail party with grace and poise, I understand it now.”

“Well, I’m not going to handle everything with grace and poise,” Tony warns him. He’s flattered, but that’s not who he is. “I’m messy, and I’m loud. I have a habit of turning bad situations worse, and—”

“And every word that you say only makes me want to get to know this singularly fascinating individual more,” Loki cuts in smoothly.

It’s a good line, Tony knows it’s a good line, but he still blushes.

“Seeing you just makes me feel so comfortable,” Loki continues, green eyes spearing Tony where he sits. “I cannot speak for you, but I, at least, felt a connection.”

“Trust me,” Tony says, remembering how he shivered when he first met Loki, “you’re not alone in that.” A small, beautiful smile spreads across Loki’s face. “I’m glad I make you feel comfortable. I feel like I have the opposite effect on people a lot of the time. I hope I always make you feel comfortable here. And I think that as long as you continue to be open and yourself and honest about how you’re feeling, you’ll make me feel pretty comfortable with you too and we’ll keep progressing. That’s all I’m asking for from you.”

“I would never be less than anything honest with you,” Loki tells him. He hesitates, looking nervous for the first time all conversation. “Tony, may I… perhaps… could I…”

Tony leans in and kisses him before Loki can continue his question. Loki sighs relievedly and slides his hand around Tony’s waist, stopping him from pulling away just yet—not that he wants to. It’s the first kiss of the season (the first proper one, anyway, not counting Thor’s from The Bachelor) and it’s a good one, soft and sweet and sending little butterflies through his stomach.

“That was good,” he says when they finally pull apart.

“Yes,” Loki says immediately, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yes, I would—that was good.”

Somehow, Steve completely misses it when Tony sidles up alongside him. The first he realizes he’s not alone is when Tony says, “You know, I’m not sure you’ve gotten the point of this whole thing.”

Steve doesn’t jump, but it’s a near thing. “I, uh, what?” he says intelligently.

“You know,” Tony says, waving his hand through the air. “You’re supposed to come find me and talk to me, not wait for me to come to you.”

“Well, I just thought—” Steve starts, then thinks better of admitting that he isn’t actually trying to win Tony’s heart. He doesn’t need to try, but he doesn’t need to make Tony feel bad about himself either. “I’m new to this,” he says instead. “I guess I thought I was trying to be polite. I don’t want to be pushy.”

“Not being pushy is a pretty good way to be forgotten,” Tony says, raising an eyebrow at him. “But thanks.”

“Yep,” Steve says awkwardly, trying to think of something else to say. This is why he was still single long enough to get roped into doing this. He’s no good at talking to omegas.

“You have no idea how to talk to an omega, do you,” Tony states amusedly, making Steve wonder if he’s somehow a mind reader.

“I think this is the longest conversation I’ve ever had with one,” he admits. Sure there was Arnie and Sharon, but he works with them, so they don’t count.

Tony snorts. “Alright. So, tell me, Steve, what do you do with your life?”

“I’m—” a bodyguard, he almost says, only managing to bite back the damning words at the last second. Tony’s a brilliant person; he’ll figure out what Steve isn’t saying in a heartbeat. “I work in security.”

“Security,” Tony echoes. “Like digital firewalls or something?”

“Or something,” Steve says with a casual shrug that he doesn’t feel. Please let Tony stop asking questions. He’s a terrible liar, everyone says so, and he just knows that if Tony keeps asking, eventually he’s going to trip Steve up.

“Interesting,” Tony muses and thankfully, drops the conversation there. “I saw what you said to Whitney. Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t have to thank me for acknowledging you as a person,” Steve says, feeling fired up all over again. “It’s, literally, the bare minimum that I could do. I can’t believe she was allowed on the show in the first place, talking that kind of garbage.”

Tony is quiet. Steve winces, wondering if he’s said too much. He won’t apologize for speaking his mind, but he knows that not everyone wants to hear it. And omegas’ rights can be… touchy. There are a lot of people online who think that alphas shouldn’t get to have any opinion at all on omegas, even opinions in support of the movement.

But when he looks over at Tony, it’s not to see a look of disgust. It’s barely an expression at all, actually, just considering, like he’s never thought about who Steve is. Well, of course he hasn’t; he hadn’t even heard of Steve before two days ago. But the look on Tony’s face makes him wonder if Tony is completely reevaluating his opinion of an alpha who hasn’t once tried to approach him.

“Thank you anyway,” Tony says after another moment. “Even if you don’t think you deserve it. You don’t know how—well. Thanks. I, uh, I have a rose to give out, so I have to—” He jerks his thumb awkwardly in the direction of the First Impression rose.

“Right,” Steve says immediately. “Yeah, of course. You should—”

Tony is gone before he finishes his sentence.

Steve sighs and tips his head back against the wall. The production team had better be prepared to carry him through eliminations.

Helpfully, Wong says, “Can you say something like, ‘That could have gone better’?”

Tony doesn’t know what to think about Steve as he carries the rose through the mansion. When he’d come here tonight, he’d come prepared to adjust his expectations of Steve based on their conversation. But as the night had carried on and Steve had continued to skulk around the corners of the room instead of trying to make conversation with him, he’d come to the conclusion that, for whatever reason, Steve just didn’t want to be here and was making that obvious by not participating. At the end, Tony had approached him himself not because he had any hopes for a relationship but because he was verifying that there wasn’t any hope there and Steve should be one of the people eliminated at the rose ceremony in the morning.

He hadn’t expected that Steve would be adorably awkward, passionate about omegas’ rights, and completely clueless that he was supposed to do anything.

It makes him curious enough to keep Steve on for another week to see what he’ll do now that he knows what his role in all of this is.

“Ty,” he says, finally spotting the person he’s been looking for. Giddy heat rushes through him, making him smile so big that his words come out awkwardly. “Will you come with me?”

“Yes,” Ty says immediately, climbing to his feet.

Tony had already been almost completely certain when he arrived today that he was going to give the First Impression rose to Ty. He’d withheld his full certainty just in case someone else overly impressed him tonight, but it’s hard to beat everything that happened with Ty both on the first night and yesterday.

He leads Ty back out to the side of the pool where they’d had their conversation yesterday. Ty drops down in the same position he’d taken yesterday, and this time, Tony mirrors him instead of dangling his feet in the pool.

“I just wanted to say that you told me you already were developing feelings for me,” he begins.

Ty laughs. “Yeah, Night One.”

Tony flushes. Fuck, Night One, and Ty was already there. It just sounds so impossible and yet so perfect. “I can see myself getting there too,” he says. “I’m excited when I get to talk to you, and I look forward to getting to know you better. When I first saw you, when you hopped the fence and told me that you still remember our playground wedding, all I could think of was how incredible it was that you never forgot about me, because I never forgot about you either. And then after everything with Whitney, it meant so much to me that you came out to find me and reassure me that, just because things didn’t work out with her, that doesn’t mean that they won’t work out with everyone else. Nothing is ruined just because of her. And that really made me feel… so special. So, with that being said, Ty, will you accept this rose?”

“Without a doubt,” Ty says immediately. “This means so much to me too. I feel like I’m living the best kind of dream right now.”

“Good,” Tony says with a relieved smile on his face. “That’s—yeah. Good.” He pins the rose to Ty’s lapel. “I think that’s—oops, that probably wasn’t supposed to happen.” One of the rose petals comes off in his hand as he pats the rose down. None of the production team stops them to give them another rose, though, so he assumes they’re just going to keep it in.

“Thank you,” Ty says softly and leans in for a kiss that Tony gladly gives him.

Chapter Text

“Tony, how are you feeling?” Nick asks when Tony gets out of the car the next morning.

“Great,” he says. “Well. Not great. I have to send some really amazing people home now, and that’s hard.” He also gets to send some not-so-amazing people home today, and that’s much less hard, but that’s not what anyone wants to hear.

There hadn’t been a camera near them—after all, showing Tony getting out of a car ruins the illusion that the cocktail party happened overnight—but there’s one waiting for them when they get inside. Nick pulls Tony off to the side of the entryway, glancing towards the hall where they hold the rose ceremony.

“They’re all in there waiting for you,” Nick says softly, low enough that the cameras will be able to pick it up but not the waiting alphas. Tony takes a deep breath and nods. “Do you know who you’re going to send home?”

“Yeah,” Tony says. He’d spent probably an ill-advised amount of time last night going over his notes on each alpha, adjusting them and readjusting until he was confident in his decision on who to eliminate today. He’ll probably get back to the hotel room after this is over and crash for the rest of the day just from the adrenaline rush.

“Alright,” Nick says, patting his shoulder. “Go on in.”

Tony grins at him and heads into the hall, smile turning nervous as he does. He knows who he’s going to eliminate, and he’s confident in who he’s chosen, but it still makes him nervous. The last time this show had a rose ceremony, the bachelorette was killed. Tony doesn’t think that any of these alphas will hurt him, especially not with the bodyguards on site, but he still can’t shake the feeling that someone is going to take their elimination personally.

“Hi, everyone,” he says, waving at them.

There’s a low chorus of “Hi, Tony” in return.

“It’s been a long night, huh?” he continues. Hopefully, while the show is airing, the audience won’t notice that no one looks as exhausted as they should after a full twenty-four hours awake. “I’ve been so appreciative of every conversation that I had with each and every you. To those of you who don’t receive a rose tonight, I promise you, I’m not trying to tell you that love isn’t out there for you just because I don’t think you’re right for me. I’m just having to go with my heart and who I feel like I could fall in love with. There is someone out there for all of you, I really believe that. Thank you so much to all of you for coming here tonight and being here for me. You’ve made this night something really special.”

He picks up his first rose, looks over the waiting alphas—twenty-seven of them looking very nervous and two just watching curiously—and says, “Pepper.”

Pepper breathes out explosively. “Oh, wow,” she breathes, stepping forward. She laughs a little in relief. “Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he teases her. “Pepper, will you accept this rose?”

“Absolutely,” she says, beaming at him.

He goes to pin the rose on her dress only to abruptly realize that he can’t remember which side it goes on. “Is it this one?” he asks. “Or…?”

“I think it’s that one,” Pepper says, pointing. Surreptitiously, Tony glances behind her to where Thor and Ty are standing with their roses. Yep, that’s the correct side.

“Okay,” he says. “Thanks.”

“We’re learning this together,” she says reassuringly.

He finishes pinning the rose on her dress and gives her a hug before she steps back into the lineup, grinning so wide it nearly splits her face.

Picking up the next rose, he turns slightly and says, “Bruce.”

Bruce straightens up and walks forward.

“Bruce,” Tony begins.

“Yes?” Bruce asks, almost nervously, as though Tony would somehow call him forward just to send him home.

“Bruce, will you accept this rose?”

“Of course I will,” he says immediately. Tony pins the rose on his shirt, hugs him, and picks up his next rose.

“Natasha.” He waits until she’s approached to continue, “Will you accept this rose?”

“Yes,” she says, smiling elegantly at him.

“Janet,” he starts only to have to cut off when she squeals excitedly. He laughs, unable to help being buoyed by her enthusiasm. If he has no one else, he knows that Janet is absolutely, completely, one hundred-percent here for him. “Janet, will you accept this rose?”

“Yes!” she exclaims, almost before he’s finished asking. He laughs again, the sound almost squeezed out of him when she throws her arms around him. For such a petite woman, she might be the strongest person he’s ever met.

“Sam,” he calls forward once Janet has taken her place back in the lineup. “Will you accept this rose?”

Sam grins at him, that same grin that makes it impossible not to smile back at him. “Absolutely, Tony. Thank you.”

“T’Challa, will you accept this rose?” he asks next.

“I will,” T’Challa says, as gravely as he says everything.

“Steve,” he says next. Steve had been a difficult choice for him. He’s not too pleased with the way Steve didn’t approach him first and how he had to go to him to talk. But the things that Steve had said, the way he’d defended him when Tony wasn’t even there, it intrigues him enough to want to keep him on for another week. Hopefully now that Steve is aware of how this show works, he’ll step his game up.

“Steve, will you accept this rose?”

Steve nods, then seems to realize that he has to actually say the words out loud. “I mean, uh, yes, of course I will.”

Tony bites back an amused smile and lets Steve step back into the lineup. “Rumiko. Will you accept this rose?”

“Yes,” she says warmly.

“Carol.” Carol actually whoops, making him laugh. “Carol, will you accept this rose?”

“You know I will,” she says. “Are we taking flight on this thing?”

“I believe we are,” he tells her, pinning her rose to her flightsuit.

“Loki,” he asks for next. “Will you accept this rose?”

“Yes, I will,” Loki purrs. His hug lingers slightly longer than appropriate, but he’s warm and gorgeous, and Tony can’t bring himself to care.

“Bucky, will you accept this rose?” he asks.

“Yeah, of course,” Bucky tells him. When he leans in for his hug, he murmurs, “Thanks for taking a chance on me.”

“You’re a great alpha,” Tony tells him honestly. They hadn’t gotten to talk for very long, but it wasn’t hard to tell that. “I’d be a fool not to take a chance on you.”

“Peter,” he says. “Peter Q. Will you accept this rose?”

“Yas king,” Peter says. Tony snickers. It was said with such a straight face that it’s impossible not to laugh at. He likes an alpha who can make him laugh.

“Emma, will you accept this rose?”

“With gratitude.”

“Wanda, will you accept this rose?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Sunset, will you accept this rose?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Christine, will you accept this rose?”

“Of course I will, Tony.”

“Victor, will you accept this rose?”

“You didn’t even have to ask.”

“Indries, will you accept this rose?”

Indries doesn’t look too pleased to be so far down the list, but she still takes the rose graciously. Tony chalks up her expression to not knowing her very well and to it being a stressful morning. He’s sure that she’ll make a better showing when he sees her next week.

“Justin, will you accept this rose?” he asks next. Justin is one of the ones that he’d deliberated over the longest. On the one hand, he really was bothered by his interruption. But on the other hand, he has no idea if Justin had been panicking over the time limit for the night, and he doesn’t want to send someone home just because they got nervous. He’ll see how Justin does this next week, and if he continues to be as irritating, he’ll send him home then.

“Yeah, of course,” Justin says, giving him a bright smile. “I had faith you’d call my name eventually.”

Tony smiles back at him, hoping that none of the cameras pick up on how tentative it is.

Nick sidles back into the room, taking his place next to Tony. “Tony, alphas,” he says with a nod. “This is the final rose tonight. Tony, when you’re ready.”

Only one rose left.

Tony takes a deep breath and picks it up. Truth be told, for all that he’d said that he was confident in his decision on who to send home tonight, he hadn’t fully decided until the car had pulled up in front of the mansion. Even then, he’d been open to changing his mind right up until he’d walked into the rose ceremony.

He looks at the alphas who still have yet to receive a rose. Helen. Ivan. Trevor. Clint. Aldrich. Stephen. Raza. May. It feels like such an impossible decision, but simultaneously, as he looks at them, he knows who he’s going to say.

“Clint,” he says. Clint breathes out a huge sigh of relief and steps forward. Tony smiles softly at him, waiting until he’s close enough to ask, “Clint, will you accept this rose?”

“Yes,” Clint says fervently. “Absolutely, yes.”

After that, it’s just a matter of pinning the rose on Clint’s lapel and saying goodbye to the alphas he’d eliminated. Most of them leave without too much of a fuss, either because they knew it wasn’t going to work out or because it’s just not in their personalities.

Ivan, however, pauses by him long enough to say, “Zhal', chto ty otpravlyayesh' menya domoy. Nam moglo by byt' tak khorosho vmeste.”

Tony looks at him steadily and replies, “Nyet, my by ne stali.”

Ivan blinks at him, clearly surprised to find out that Tony does actually know enough Russian to know what he’s been saying this entire time. His expression slowly changes to something akin to respect. He inclines his head silently, acknowledging Tony’s challenge, and walks away.

The last alpha to leave is May, who gives him a warm hug and whispers in his ear, “It’s okay. I know it’s hard to imagine becoming a parent so quickly.”

“It’s not that,” he tries to protest, even though a large part of it is, but she gives him a knowing look and leaves.

Once the eliminated alphas are gone, Luis and Darcy circulate with trays of champagne flutes. Tony takes his with a murmured thanks, waiting until everyone has a glass before he raises it.

“Cheers to this incredible adventure we’re about to go on,” he says. “Let’s do this!”

“To adventures!” everyone echoes, tapping their glasses together. They cheer, taking sips of their champagne. Tony accidentally winds up with a bigger gulp than he’d intended on, but he manages to swallow it without choking or looking like a complete idiot.

“Well,” he says. “Rest up, everyone. Spend the next few days preparing for next week because I have got some big things in store for you.”

“Hoo boy,” Peter comments, taking another drink of his champagne. “Think I’ll need the rest of this.”

Tony laughs and slips out of the hall while Janet breaks out into excited speculation of what next week will bring. Nick is waiting for him in the entryway, giving him a knowing look. He wraps his arm around Tony’s shoulders and steers him towards the confessional room upstairs. Tony leans into him, feeling bolstered by Uncle Nick’s support.

“How are you feeling?” Nick asks.

“It was harder than I’d expected,” he admits. “I know I made the right choice, but I can’t help but wish I’d had longer with some of them to really feel certain.”

“You’ve got time to tell us about it now,” Nick says, moving behind the camera while Tony takes a seat on the confessional couch.

“Right,” he says. They don’t often air the footage of the bachelorette talking through their elimination choices from the first week. Everyone just kind of assumes that the eliminated choices didn’t make a stellar first impression. The footage is really only aired if there was a big surprise that night or if they need something to pad out the runtime. But it’s always filmed anyway.

“I’ll go in callout order, huh?” he muses, gratefully taking the coffee that Darcy hands him. “So, Helen. She just… she didn’t make an impression at all. Even when I was talking to her, I felt like she was just nodding along. I don’t want to keep someone on when I can barely even remember that they exist.

“Then there’s Ivan. And look, I don’t know whether he’s just into hardcore BDSM or genuinely has some pretty shitty ideas about alphas and omegas, but it doesn’t matter to me. I can already tell that we wouldn’t be a good fit, so he had to go.”

“What about Trevor?” Coulson asks.

Tony shrugs. “Trevor’s drinking makes me uncomfortable. I know too many alcoholics, and that’s not how I want to spend the rest of my life. Um, Aldrich was just way too overconfident. He was almost smug in his assumptions that I wanted to spend my life with him. Same problem with Stephen. He had so much of an ego that I wasn’t enjoying talking to him. I get it; he’s a trauma surgeon, he holds the power of life and death in his hands, and some ego is pretty expected of trauma surgeons. But I run in some very exclusive circles; I’m used to large egos. I really don’t need another one in my life.

“Raza is… I don’t know. He just gives me the creeps. Like every time I looked at him, I felt like he was imagining what my organs would go for on the black market.”

He pauses, long enough that Coulson gently asks, “So tell me about May.”

Tony sighs heavily. “May. God, what do I say about that? She was the hardest decision I had to make. I really liked her and Peter. But I’m not ready to be a dad. I already know that. And because of that, I didn’t feel comfortable keeping her here.”

“May isn’t the only single parent here,” Coulson points out. “But you kept Clint on.”

“Yeah, but Clint still has his ex-wife to take care of their kids. Peter is with friends. And I just didn’t feel right leaving him with friends when I knew that I didn’t see a future with May.” And he has to admit that part of what he’d seen with Whitney had swayed his decision too. Steve might have been the one to stand up for him first, but Clint had followed right after. May had clearly been annoyed by Whitney’s words, but she hadn’t put a stop to it. “Look, I don’t know if I see a future with Clint either, at least not while he has the kids—and he’ll always have them—but when it came down to it, I had to follow my heart. And my heart said to keep Clint here.”

“Alright,” Coulson says agreeably. “I think we’ve got what we need.”

“Great,” Tony says, suddenly exhausted. Eliminating people from his pool of alphas is tiring work.

Nick seems to pick up on it and guides him back out of the room with an arm around his shoulders again. “You go home and get some sleep,” he says. “Luis and I will be by tomorrow to go over one-on-one choices with you, alright?”

“Okay,” Tony agrees. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

“Week 2,” Steve says, sitting down at the table with his team and most of the production team. Maria is off directing the filming of some early confessionals before the week gets underway, but everyone else is here. “Any updates for me?”

“Well, your boy’s got the good sense God gave a rock,” Dum-Dum says, “so most of the worst of ‘em are already gone.”

“Not my boy,” Steve says automatically.

Dum-Dum doesn’t look impressed. “You know what I mean.”

“Anyway,” Sharon says pointedly. “Tony already eliminated most of the ones we were keeping our eyes on.”

“Who’s left?” Steve asks. He hasn’t seen much of his team these last three days. It’s easy enough to find time to get away with the mansion as large as it is and most of the other alphas focused on getting ready for the first round of dates (though he struggles to see how any of them can prepare for a date when they don’t know who’s going on which date or where they’re going). But the fruit code hadn’t been put into use until this morning, and Steve had had to trust that his team was following up on their own leads.

“Stone,” Gabe says. Nick makes an irritated noise. “Moomji. Bain.”

“What’s wrong with Indries and Sunset?” Steve checks. He’s been trying to spend more time with Ty to get a better feel for him, but Ty tends to keep to himself most of the time.

“Baintronic’s R&D department is struggling,” Peggy says, tapping one fingernail against the varnished wood of the table. “They haven’t put out anything new in close to a year, which means their profits have taken a dip. They’re losing quite a few of their customers to Stark Industries. However, we haven’t been able to find any proof that Bain is up to anything untoward, and until we do, we can’t remove her from the show.”

“And Moomji?” Steve asks.

“Her last three omegas have done stints in rehab after dating her,” Morita says. “None of them showed any signs of addictive behaviors prior to going out with her, and while they were in rehab, Moomji took them to the cleaners. Designer handbags, couture dresses, the works. But just like Bain—we don’t have any definitive proof that she did anything.”

“And until you get proof,” Nick cuts in, “I can’t do anything about them. I can’t throw out contestants without talking to Tony about it just on hearsay.” He glances out the window at the rising sun. “Looks like our meeting is over. Tony’s first date card should be arriving in the hour. Steve, you’ll want to be back at the mansion before then.”

“Got it,” Steve says, pushing away from the table. “Nick, can you see if you can make sure I’m on any group dates with Ty? We’ve got an idea of what Sunset and Indries might be up to, but he’s still our wildcard. I think he needs to be our priority right now.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Nick warns. “But I don’t make any promises. It’s up to Tony who goes on these dates.”

“Just do what you can,” he replies. “I’ll see you up at the mansion. Guys.” He nods at them and leaves, taking the long way back to his room to avoid the infinity pool where a couple of the other alphas are talking. The clock is striking seven when he arrives; their pre-dawn meeting had run even later than he’d realized. Tony’s date card isn’t arriving within the hour; it’s likely arriving within the next few minutes.

He’s calm as he takes his seat in the great living room with everyone else. Even if he doesn’t get a date today, he knows that he’s guaranteed one eventually this week. It’s an open secret among these kinds of shows that production has a hand in eliminations and challenges. Production needs to keep him on for at least another month to make sure that they have a handle on every other alpha on set. They’ll make sure that he stays on, no matter what Tony thinks of him, and he can’t imagine that Tony thinks anything good of him. He probably doesn’t think anything bad of Steve either after the snafu with Whitney, but Steve knows that he hasn’t put too much effort into making himself an appealing choice. He doesn’t want to be an appealing choice. Tony deserves a shot at finding real love, and that isn’t Steve. He doesn’t want to stand out as a cut above the rest, make Tony fall in love with him, and then reveal to him that it was fake all along. It wouldn’t be fair to Tony.

“What’s going on?” Nick greets them, walking into the room. He doesn’t look at Steve, nothing to indicate that Steve is anyone other than who he appears to be. “Welcome. Welcome to the mansion!”

As Steve is rapidly (unfortunately) becoming used to, this statement is greeted with cheers. There’s too much cheering on this show (and champagne. Seriously, who needs champagne at seven in the morning?).

“Clearly, you all made a good first impression on Tony, or an impression, since you’re here.” This time, he does glance at Steve. Steve bites back an annoyed scowl. He doesn’t have to make a good impression. “What was it like Night One, walking in here?”

“I was nervous, coming out of the limo,” Bucky admits. “I felt like the expectations were already so high. I was lucky that Tony recognized my prosthetic, and we were able to connect over that, but still. He was obviously pretty impressed by you guys. Felt kinda difficult to measure up to that.”

Nick nods understandingly. He turns to Ty. “And our First Impression rose? How does that feel?”

“Having a real connection on the very first night and then knowing that Tony felt the same way about me just makes me feel all that more confident,” Ty says.

Steve bites back another irritated frown. This time, however, he notices that he’s not the only one clearly bothered by Ty’s casual arrogance. Thor, Bucky, Pepper, and Bruce are all frowning as well.

“Tony is a great omega,” Nick says, ignoring the new tension in the room. “I have the pleasure of getting to say that I watched him grow up, and I can tell you all now, you couldn’t meet a better omega. He’s serious about this, he’s serious about all of you, so I only have one question for you: are you ready to do this?”

“Yeah!” everyone choruses.

“Alright,” Nick says, smiling. He gestures at the clock. “Dates start today.” He pulls a white envelope out of his pocket and slaps it down on the table. “First date card right here. You all enjoy the dates, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks, Nick,” Steve calls after him, echoed by a couple other alphas. Nick raises a hand in acknowledgment.

“Okay, guys,” Sam says, reaching for the envelope. “Let’s see what we’ve got here. ‘Pepper, Bruce, Thor, Janet, Peter, Natasha, Carol, Tiberius. I’m looking for my Perfect Alpha.’”

“Ooh, wonder what that one means,” Peter muses.

“What?” Steve asks out loud, more distracted by the fact that he won’t be going on the date with Ty—and immediately after he requested it too. He makes subtle eye contact with Dernier, standing behind the cameraman. Dernier nods back at him. He’ll keep an eye on Ty, since Steve won’t be able to.

“Haven’t you seen the show?” Bucky mutters to him. “Each date card has a clue as to what the date will be.”

“Oh,” Steve mouths. Now he’s curious. What does ‘I’m looking for my Perfect Alpha’ mean?

“It’s my first date,” Tony says cheerfully to the camera while he’s waiting for the alphas to arrive. “I’m so excited to see the alphas. It’s not easy getting to really know them during the first cocktail party. They’re all pretty nervous. I was pretty nervous.” He laughs. “I just want to see them loosen up a bit. There’s plenty of time for nerves at the evening portion of our date. Today is all about trying something they’ve probably never done before.”

“And what’s that?” Coulson asks him.

“I’m looking for my Perfect Alpha,” he explains. “Growing up, everyone always makes such a big deal about the perfect omega. I mean, shit, we have so many—”

“Tony, can we try that again without the swearing?”

“Oops,” he says, wincing. “Yeah, of course we can. I’ll take it from the top, okay? Um, I’m looking for my Perfect Alpha. Growing up, everyone always makes such a big deal about the Perfect Omega. We have so many pageants for Omega USA or World Omega, and we tell young omegas that that’s the kind of standard they need to live up to, but alphas don’t have to do anything like that. We tell them that they’re perfect just the way they are. Fortunately, I never had to do pageants—my mom wasn’t that kind of mom—but I’ve been put into the spotlight in plenty of other ways. So today, I want to see these alphas take a step out of their comfort zone and into the spotlight just like I was, just like so many other omegas.”

Right as he finishes talking, he hears the outer doors to the theater open. He stands up and fixes a bright grin on his face right as the inner doors open and eight alphas spill inside.

“Hi!” he exclaims.

“Hi, Tony!” he hears from a few throats. Thor actually jogs over to him and lifts him up in a big bear hug.

“You look absolutely incredible,” Thor tells him when he puts him back down.

“I know,” Tony says impishly, striking a pose. He’d chosen a Daniel Fletcher outfit for today: a black jean jacket with white stitching and a silver buckle at the hem over a white asymmetrical shirt and black jeans. He looks damn good, and he knows it. Modesty has never been a problem of his.

“What are we doing today?” Janet asks eagerly once Tony has finished greeting the other alphas and they’ve assembled in front of him.

“Today, I thought we’d have a little fun by inviting you into a part of many omegas’ lives across the globe,” Tony explains. The alphas murmur in mixed support and confusion. “So to help us put on the very first Perfect Alpha pageant, I brought in the very best of the best for help—” He gestures broadly to the stage, which lights up in bright pink and blue neon as three omegas take the stage and pose—“Sersi, Kareem, and the Queen of the Catwalk, Gamora.”

All three omegas are well-known pageant winners, ranging from Kareem, the most recent Omega USA winner, to Sersi, who won Omega USA five years ago, to Gamora, who went from Omega USA to World Omega winner also five years ago.

“Tony,” Gamora tsks, joining them, “you have your work cut out for you.”

Tony surveys his alphas, all looking slightly trepidatious but excited (except for Janet, who’s just excited). “I know I do,” he says proudly. They won’t let him down.

Gamora looks at them as well and says, “Tony doesn’t want just any alpha. He wants the perfect alpha—” Thor eagerly points at himself—“and to help him choose that, this is the Perfect Alpha pageant. We have props for your talent portion, and your swimsuits for your walk.”

Ty’s eyebrows shoot up to nearly his hairline. “Swimsuits?” he asks.

“Yes,” Kareem states, reaching behind him to pull out an American flag-patterned speedo. “These. Is there a problem?”

“Ohhhhh,” the other alphas exclaim, staring wide-eyed at the speedo. Janet cranes her neck to take a look at the bikinis also on the table.

“No!” Ty says quickly, glancing over at Tony. “No problem. I was just checking.”

“Alright, let’s do this!” Tony declares, stepping back. “Take your pick, alphas.”

It had taken the alphas a little over an hour to get to the Belasco Theater and another thirty minutes to film the opening scene to Coulson’s satisfaction. The alphas have the rest of the morning and about half the afternoon to pick out their speedos, perfect their walk, and practice their talent to their satisfaction before the pageant at three. This much time for the alphas to prepare leaves Tony at pretty loose ends. He has a few more confessionals to film, and he’ll be watching the alphas from time to time to gauge how much effort they’re putting into this, but for the most part, he has nothing to do.

Fortunately, most of them do seem pretty enthusiastic about it. Thor and Peter in particular have thrown themselves into searching for a talent. Carol and Ty, on the other hand, don’t seem nearly as excited. Ty actually seems very wary of the three pageant winners coaching them, but Carol just doesn’t look like she’s putting that much effort into what Sersi is telling her. He frowns and looks back down at his tablet, where he’s sketching out a new prosthetic design.

He'd managed to talk Coulson into letting him bring a tablet in so he can get some work done. He can’t access the internet, but he doesn’t need to do that anyway. Although… he cranes his neck over his shoulder, looking for the pretty blonde bodyguard.

“Sharon, right?” he calls. She jumps and points at herself. “Yeah, you. Come over here. I wanna pick your brain for a second.”

She appears very hesitant about it but does, eventually, join him on his couch. “You know, I’m not really supposed to interact with you,” she says. “I can’t guard you as well if you’re distracting me.”

Tony snorts and waves her off. “No one’s going to attack me this early in the game. You ever thought about applying for this?”

“For… a pageant? My mom tried to—”

“No,” he interrupts. “For The Bachelorette.”

She blinks at him. “Um,” she says. “I don’t really think I’m the type of omega who does things like this.”

“Neither am I,” Tony points out. Historically, the bachelorette has been a petite pageant winner who does interior design or owns a bakery or is a basket weaver. The bachelorette is not usually 5’9” with scars from mishandling a blowtorch and a multibillion dollar company in assets. History with the show or not, Tony is definitely not the usual bachelorette.

“I’ve noticed how much you like the show,” he continues. “I’m pretty sure you guessed every single one of my eliminations right. You’ve clearly got a handle on this. You should think about applying next season.”

“Oh,” she says, clearly taken aback that he’s been paying as much attention to the production crew as his alphas. “Um, thanks.”

“Yeah, sure,” he says and switches gears. “So why haven’t I met your boss yet?”

She blinks at him again. “I… am the boss?” she tries.

He gives her his best bitch please look. “Give me some credit here,” he says. “You don’t get where I am in life without being able to pick up on who’s second-in-command. And you have second written all over you.”

Sharon stares at him for another second, then sighs. “Alright, you’re right. But don’t go telling Pierce about it. He wanted to hire our entire team, and we agreed, because the money is really good. But our team leader was still working on another job, and we couldn’t just cut and run.  So, for all intents and purposes, I am the boss.”

“Huh,” Tony replies, mulling that over in his brain. “Alright.”

“Tony!” Coulson calls. “Can we get you over here for a confessional?”

“Sure thing!” he calls back. He turns back to Sharon and pats her shoulder. “You’re doing a great job, boss.”

“Today, I’m looking for who’s going to step up,” Tony tells the camera. “This isn’t going to be every alpha’s element. I’m not sure it would even be mine if you got me up on that stage. Presenting at expos is very different from a pageant. But I’m not looking for the slickest alpha with the most talent and the hottest body. I’m looking for the alpha who’s willing to give it their all. I’m looking for the alpha who is confident enough in themselves to get up there and look a little silly.”

“Hello and welcome to the Perfect Alpha Pageant!” Nick exclaims. He’s answered with cheers from the watching crowd (according to Wong, who has all the best gossip, they’re all sweepstakes winners and fans of the show, though Tony is convinced that at least some of them have to be random people off the street). “I am your host, Nick Fury.” The crowd roars louder for him. “Eight bachelors will be competing today for the coveted title of the Perfect Alpha. Please give it up for Pepper—” Pepper walks out onto the stage in a navy blue bathrobe—“Bruce—” Bruce follows her in an identical blue bathrobe—"Thor. Janet. Peter. Natasha. Carol. And Tiberius!”

As Ty takes his seat, the spotlight sweeps over to Tony and his fellow judges. Tony has changed into a white pantsuit and a berry red and white ombré capelet over the suit. To his pleasure, Peter takes one look at him and his jaw drops open, which does shameful things to his ego.

“And now for our judges. Please give it up for Kareem!” Kareem bows from his seat. “Sersi!” Sersi waves elegantly. “And Gamora!” Gamora blows a few kisses to the audience.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our bachelorette,” Nick continues, “Tony Stark!”

“Yeah!” Tony cheers, waving much more enthusiastically than elegantly to the audience.

Pepper is up first. Tony’s attention is caught by the sky high stilettos she’s wearing—they have to be at least six inches tall, and she’s already a tall woman. But then she says, “Here goes nothing,” and drops the bathrobe as funky pop music starts to play, and Tony feels his own jaw drop. Pepper is absolutely gorgeous in a royal blue bedazzled bikini with silver spangled straps along her hips and shoulders.

“Woo!” he cheers as she starts her walk down the runway to where Tony and the judges are sitting.

Pepper reaches the end and cocks her hip to the side in a quick pose before she turns and walks back up the runway. It’s a little too fast, she isn’t being as fun with it as he would have liked, but she’d seemed nervous when she dropped the bathrobe, so he tries not to judge her.

Bruce is next. He drops his bathrobe with a little more flair than Pepper had, revealing a jungle-themed speedo with green leaves and bright purple flowers. The music changes to something like Tony would hear in Tarzan or Madagascar. His walk is just as fast as Pepper’s had been, barely posing at all before he’s scurrying back up the runway. Well, that’s two alphas down, and Thor is up next.

Tony would have predicted that Thor would approach this challenge with the same flair and enthusiasm as he always does, and he’s rewarded for his prediction when Thor flings off the bathrobe with the same panache as if he were auditioning for the role of Anastasia. He’s wearing a chainmail-patterned speedo with a very impressive bulge underneath, and the music changes to something equally dramatic.

“Yeah!” Tony cheers as Thor struts down the runway. “Yeah!”

Thor reaches the end, reaches out to take Tony’s hand, and kisses the back of it. Next to Tony, Sersi sighs dreamily. Thor turns around and slaps his own ass before continuing back up the runway.

“Hell yeah!” Tony yells. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

He has no idea how anyone could top that, but then Janet walks out, and Tony abruptly remembers that her introduction last week was a runway walk.

“No one’s ever going to beat that,” Kareem says, echoing his thoughts.

“Ooh, I don’t know,” Tony muses as Janet does a little spin, toying with the belt of her robe. “Janet might give him a run for his money.”

“Take it off!” the crowd chants. “Take it off!”

Janet looks over her shoulder at them, winks, and drops the robe to the floor. The music changes on a dime to something upbeat and poppy as she turns to reveal a goldenrod yellow bikini with little bumblebees lining the cups and hips.

“Oh, that’s so cute,” Sersi says softly.

Janet gives them a very technical walk, which Tony could have anticipated given her profession, but she’s clearly having the time of her life, and he appreciates that.

Peter’s robe drop is no different than Pepper or Bruce’s, and his American flag speedo isn’t nearly as impressive as Thor’s chainmail pattern. But when he reaches the end of the runway, not only does he do a dramatic hairflip, but he also snaps the waistband of his speedo against his hips while giving Tony the sultriest look he’s seen so far.

“Yeah!” Tony cheers through his laugh. “That’s it!”

Gamora, on his other side, is shaking her head in embarrassment, but this is exactly what Tony was looking for. He wants alphas who can be bold and surprise him and have a little bit of fun while doing it.

Natasha walks out next, and the music changes to something jazzier and sexier. Tony raises an eyebrow at the change, wondering what she’s going to pull out to warrant this music. Like Janet, she turns around for her robe drop, but unlike Janet’s flirty wink, Natasha gives them a coy look and slowly lowers her robe off of her shoulders, letting her red hair cascade down her back, before dropping it all the way.

Her bikini actually covers more skin than either Janet’s or Pepper’s (and certainly more than any of the men’s), but it suits her. The top has two bands branching out from the center across her stomach. The bottom, instead of the typical string tied across her hips, has three bands on either side. On the whole, the effect is gorgeous and, yes, kind of sexy.

She struts down the runway like she was born to do it. Natasha doesn’t pose for them at the end, just takes Tony’s hand and squeezes it, looking up at him through her lashes. And then, to Tony’s surprise and delight, she does the same thing to Gamora, who had coached her through her walk.

“I like her,” Gamora declares as Natasha sashays away from them.

“You just like her because she honored you and your help,” Kareem tells her.

Tony snickers at them.

Carol is up next. Given how unenthusiastic she’d seemed during the practice, Tony isn’t really expecting much from her. He’s never been more pleased to be proven wrong, however, when she throws off her robe with as much flair as anyone else has so far. Carol’s bikini is a metallic red with gold and blue rhinestones in the patterns of shooting stars. It’s not a color combination that he would have thought would work, but it looks fantastic on her.

The music changes to something sweeping and dramatic as she heads down the runway. Her walk is a little heavy, her movements more awkward than everyone else except for Bruce, but Tony thinks it’s obvious that she’s trying. He can appreciate that.

“I tried with her,” Sersi mourns as Carol walks back up the runway. “I really did.”

Ty is last, and Tony had thought that they were all out of surprises. But Ty drops his robe to reveal a brown cow leather speedo—he hadn’t even known they made those—and cowboy boots as the music shifts to a western-sounding theme. He looks damn good as he saunters down the runway, posing for them at the end like he was born to do it.

“Pew-pew!” Tony crows as Kareem flicks water at Ty’s bare chest.

When Ty is clothed and seated again, Nick comes back out on stage and jokes, “We’re going to give the judges a few minutes to calm down while our alphas get ready for the talent portion. But don’t change that dial! We’ll be right back with the Perfect Alpha Pageant after the break!”

When the curtain opens again, the alphas have already taken their seats on the stage. Tony had spent his break talking with Gamora, Sersi, and Kareem, trying to get a feel for how much effort the alphas had put into their talent portions. Sometimes, when there’s lights and music and dramatic flair, it can be difficult to know if someone spent their entire time leading up to it skulking around and complaining but managed to pull something decent out of their ass for the moment of truth. He doesn’t want that.

It's like a trial run for their relationship. If they’re only willing to put effort into the things that he sees or the big things, then how does he know that the dishes are getting done? Or that they’re not complaining about him to their friends? Or, god forbid, that they’re not cheating on him?

Pepper and Bruce, neither of whom are naturally dramatic people, had struggled a bit with the walk, but they’d both settled very easily into their talents. Carol had had trouble trying to shake off the feeling that she was making a fool out of herself, which Tony felt had shown in her walk, though she had clearly given it her best shot. Sersi doesn’t seem convinced that she’ll be able to pull off the talent portion either, but Tony is holding out hope. He likes Carol; she reminds him of Rhodey.

As for Ty, Gamora seems unconvinced about his talent portion. “He knows he’s attractive, so he was able to make that work for his walk, but when I asked him about his best attributes for his talent portion, he said his character,” she’d told him. “And he couldn’t seem to think of anything else.”

So, it’ll be interesting seeing what Ty manages to pull off.

If he manages to pull something off. Tony hasn’t forgotten that he told Nick he could be objective about Ty and that’s the only reason Ty was allowed to stay after his failure to disclose they already knew each other. He doesn’t want to break that promise. It’s not fair to him to overlook someone potentially amazing because he got his head tangled up in Ty, and it’s also not fair to the other alphas who deserve a fair shot.

Speaking of which, Pepper is walking out on stage now, and he should be giving her his full attention instead of speculating about Ty. She’s changed into a simple white shift dress and her heels have gotten a few inches shorter, though still intimidatingly high. Maybe she’s about to sing or… or…

Maybe she’s pulling six balls out from surprisingly deep pockets and starting to juggle.

“Oh my god!” he exclains, absolutely delighted to see it. It’s such an odd talent that doesn’t fit in with anything else he knows about her (which, admittedly, isn’t a lot, but he would dare anyone to look at Pepper Potts, art curator for the rich and famous, and guess that she juggles). And yet, she’s so good at it, clearly well-practiced and used to it, that it feels completely natural for her.

Pepper catches the last ball with a flourish and bows, shooting him a conspiratorial grin when he cheers loudly.

Just like with the swimsuit portion, Bruce is next. He needs to take a few minutes to get a table set up with an intriguing array of chemicals, beakers, and a long, flexible clear tube.

“Are we going to listen to a chemistry lesson?” Kareem wonders out loud.

Tony, for one, wouldn’t mind a chemistry lesson, but then, just as Bruce finishes getting set up, a familiar banjo strain starts to play over the loudspeaker.

“Why are there so many songs about rainbows?” Bruce begins to sing in a perfect imitation of Kermit the Frog.

“Yeah! Hell yeah!” Tony cheers, almost missing Bruce starting to mix chemicals together in the beakers. He fucking loves the Muppets, okay? Six years ago, he did an interview with Variety and Miss Piggy, and he loved it. He completely forgot that Miss Piggy is a puppet and not an actual, breathing creature.

Bruce continues singing as he mixes chemicals, producing vivid red, bright orange, sunny yellow, forest green, deep blue, and violently purple liquids in each of the six beakers on stage.

“Oh my god, he’s making a rainbow,” Sersi realizes.

But Bruce isn’t content with just making the colors. The next thing he reaches for, during the bridge of the song, is a graduated cylinder. He pours first the purple liquid into the cylinder, then the blue, and so on until he’s poured the red liquid on top. Tony hadn’t realized that the chemicals must all have different densities but it’s incredibly satisfying to watch them settle in layers instead of mixing together.

But Bruce still isn’t done. He reaches for the giant clear tube, fixes one end to some kind of bracket on the table, and pours the rainbow mixture into the other end of the tube. He caps it and carefully bends the tube into an arch and fixes it at the far end of the table, singing, “The lovers, the dreamers, and me,” while the liquid mixture settles into its layers once again, forming a perfect rainbow over his head just as the music comes to an end.

Tony leaps to his feet, clapping wildly. “Woohoo!” he cheers, pumping his fist over his head. “Woo woo woo woo!”

Bruce gives a little bow, cheeks lightly flushed, and then gets started cleaning up. Tony takes his seat again, still exhilarated from the masterful timing and skill Bruce had shown.

“That was great,” he says enthusiastically.

Thor puts on a very intricate dance with, of all things, a very realistic battle axe. Tony supposes that he shouldn’t be surprised since Thor had shown up to the mansion on the first night with an axe, but he is. He supposes that, even though Thor looks hot as hell up there swinging that axe around, he would have liked for him to dig deeper and reveal something a little more unexpected. The Viking theme is starting to get a little old after the introduction at the mansion, the swimsuit, and now this dance. He wants the alpha in the gorgeous suit from their very first night too.

Given her stellar performance during the swimsuit portion, he would have expected that Janet would have an equally stellar performance for her talent. But he’d forgotten that Janet’s specialty is in fashion and fashion shows, not in pageants. For her talent, she takes a old flowery sheet and turns it into a dress without a single stitch or pin, which is, admittedly, pretty cool and resourceful of her but not something that Tony would ever have use for in his own life.

Then it’s Peter’s turn. Peter walks out on stage with a guitar, making Tony ask, “Wait, he plays too?” Just like with Janet, he’d expected that Peter, a dance instructor, would have done some kind of dance routine, but unlike with Janet, Peter isn’t doing that at all.

“Let me tell you somethin’ ‘bout my baby,” Peter sings.

“Wait,” Tony realizes. “Did he write this song himself?” It’s definitely not a song that he recognizes. Gamora nods. “Holy shit.”

“I wanna love this boy until we’re eighty,” Peter continues. “He keeps pulling me in with that smile, with that smile. So let’s make some time to spend a while, a while.

“So, baby, tell me
Do you love walking in the moonlight?
Do you love staying up ‘til midnight?
Do you love whiskey in a cold glass?
Well, you gotta know I do, and that’s
Why I’m the Perfect Alpha for you.”

Tony grins, blushing, as Peter comes to an end and blows a kiss at him. Was it a good song? Absolutely not. But it was exactly what he was looking for from today—someone bold, someone willing to look a little silly, someone willing to get out there and take risks and prove that having fun is more important to them than looking good.

Speaking of looking good, Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy starts to play over the loudspeakers. Natasha takes the stage in a shimmery pink flowy dress that somehow manages not to clash with her hair (seriously, how does she do that?), goes up en pointe, and begins to dance. Tony’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. He’d known that Natasha is a professional ballerina. Even though his mom bemoans his lack of culture, even he can’t miss one of the New York City Ballet company’s prima ballerinas appearing on his season. Somehow, though, he hadn’t quite put that together in his mind with the talent portion of this pageant. Natasha finishes with one last flourish, and Tony cheers for her just as loudly as he has for everyone else.

Carol comes out in tap shoes and dances to some song that sounds like it might be called Hope Has Wings, judging by how many times it’s repeated throughout the song. It’s not a bad performance, not by any means. It’s honestly better than her walk had been. But Tony thinks that it’s fairly obvious that she’s struggling to let go of her sense of self for this pageant, but that’s exactly what he’s looking for out of the alphas today. Maybe she would have done better on the other group date for this week, but he thinks it’s important to know this about her now.

Ty takes the stage last, dressed simply in a deep red suit. Tony waits eagerly. He knows what Gamora had said about him not reaching deep enough, but Ty had really impressed him last week. Well, obviously he impressed him; that’s why he got the First Impression rose. But he means it. How Ty had introduced himself, the way he’d comforted Tony after Whitney’s elimination, that he hadn’t pushed for more when Tony gave him the rose? It had gone a long way towards solidifying him in Tony’s mind as one of the frontrunners of the show.

“Tony,” Ty begins, which isn’t what he expected. Where is Ty’s talent? “I know that the Perfect Alpha for you is an alpha who will love you fiercely.” He pulls the microphone off the stand and steps around it. “I’ve already given you part of my heart, but I hope that someday soon, I’ll be able to give you all of it.”

Wait. Is Ty making a speech for his talent? Well, Tony can’t say that it’s not unique. He’s never seen anyone do something like that. And maybe it’s not a talent, but this pageant was never about that anyway. It was about being willing to put themselves out there, unafraid and unashamed. And giving a speech about his feelings and about their relationship is certainly acting unafraid and unashamed.

“Tony, I can’t believe that I’m saying this right now,” Ty continues. “I know that it’s crazy because it’s so soon. We’ve known each other for such a short time, but I believe that we were meant to find each other again, and I believe that sometimes, you just know when someone is right for you. You’re right for me, and I can only hope that I’m right for you, because, Tony, I’m genuinely starting to fall in love with you.”

Chapter Text

“What the hell?” Wanda says out loud, storming out to the sunken living room by the pool where just about everyone else is gathered. Steve looks up from his conversation with Sam and Bucky and arches an inquisitive eyebrow. “I overheard Wong on the phone with one of the cameramen on the date. Tiberius Stone, in front of everyone, declared that he was already falling in love with Tony.”

Steve goes still. Slowly, he looks up at Falsworth, who’d stuck around the mansion today. Falsworth is giving a very worrisome expression to his phone before he raises his eyes meets Steve’s stare and nods once.

Holy shit.

Steve hasn’t liked Ty since this whole thing started. He’s said that something rubbed him the wrong way about his introduction, and it had just been compounded by Ty’s insistence on snagging Tony’s attention first and then ambushing him while he was emotional to reassure him that he, Ty Stone, was there for the right reasons. And now this—this blatant lie, because it has to be a lie, no one falls in love after four days, this obviously manipulative technique for Tony to see him in a better light.

“He can’t be serious,” Sam says. “I like Tony. I think I could see the rest of my life with him. But I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I’m falling in love with him this early in the game. It’s love bombing, pure and simple.”

“It gets worse,” Wanda says, squeezing a pillow so hard Steve is surprised a stitch doesn’t rip. “Tony gave him the Perfect Alpha sash.”

“The… Perfect Alpha sash?” Sunset asks.

“Tony had them compete in a pageant to determine the Perfect Alpha,” Wanda explains. “They had to do a runway walk and a talent portion.”

“So what you’re saying is that Ty didn’t even do anything, but he still won the pageant?” Bucky asks. He slumps back on the couch and runs his hand over his face. “Fucking hell. If that asshole wins the group date rose because of a fake love confession, I swear to god—”

“The group date rose?” Steve asks, suddenly confused. What does a rose have to do with a sash and the pageant?

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” Bucky swears. “You really need to talk to one of the assistants and figure out how this show works or Tony’s gonna kick you off for not caring enough—”

“That doesn’t sound so bad to me,” Justin mutters, glaring at Steve’s biceps. Steve, who’s spent the entire day having to listen to Justin’s complaints about how he’s not as muscular as some of the alphas, glares at him.

Bucky just ignores him and says, “Each date each week has an opportunity for a rose to be given out. They’re safe during eliminations; it’s the same as getting a rose during the actual elimination, but you don’t have to worry about it.The group date rose is awarded to the person who impressed Tony this most during the date.”

Oh. And now it looks like Ty might manage to get the rose and be safe for another week because he said some pretty words that were convincing enough for Tony to ignore that he hadn’t actually done anything and award him the pageant winner anyway. Steve scowls. Not if he has anything to say about it.

He plans on waiting until the conversation has moved on from Ty, but it seems like everyone has seized this opportunity to prove to everyone else how invested they are in Tony and it keeps dragging on looping from how unfair it is that Ty pulled that stunt to how they would be a much better alpha for Tony and back to Ty again. Eventually, Steve mutters that he has to go to the bathroom and ducks out back into the mansion and down one of the halls, where he’s not in eyesight of any of the alphas. Falsworth is waiting for him, pacing back and forth.

“What the hell happened?” Steve hisses.

Falsworth shakes his head. “I’m still getting word from the others, but it sounds like it’s exactly what Wanda said. For his ‘talent,’ he decided not to put effort in and instead made a speech about how he knew they hadn’t known each other for very long but he was already falling in love.”

“I guess we know his talent is acting, then,” Steve says irritably, angry that this had happened without anyone putting a stop to it. He knows logically that there’s nothing any of them could have done. Ty wasn’t acting violently, and it’s not their job to stop a potentially manipulative relationship from occurring, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t like bullies or abusers or manipulative assholes who clearly don’t mean a word they say and are only here for… well, he doesn’t know yet, but it sure as hell isn’t for Tony. Steve isn’t here for him either, but he remembers that lonely gleam in Tony’s eyes during his interview at the restaurant and he can’t help it. He wants to make sure that Tony finds real, true love on this show, not that he’s manipulated into a sham by Tiberius Stone.

“Alright, I’m pulling the plug,” he decides. “Ty’s behavior shows a worrying pattern and I think he has the potential to be a danger to Tony and everyone else.”

“Based on what?” Falsworth asks gently. “Don’t misunderstand me, I think he’s terrible too, but we don’t have any proof other than a gut feeling.”

“That should be enough!” Steve snaps.

Falsworth just stares him down until Steve looks away, ashamed of how he snapped at a friend. “If it were any other job, you know it would be,” he says. “But this is reality television, and Ty is good for drama. You try to go to Pierce and tell him that you want Ty off the show, you better have ironclad proof that he’s dangerous or he’ll ignore you.”

He’s right. Steve knows he’s right, but he doesn’t like it. Every instinct he has is screaming at him that Ty has the potential to be dangerous if left unchecked.

“Fuck,” he sighs, leaning against the wall. “How did I let us get mixed up in this?”

“Pierce promised us thrice our normal rate, and Gabe has a baby on the way.”

“Fuck,” Steve says again, more vehemently.

“I had so much fun with all of you today,” Tony says when they’re all seated at the Penthouse’s lounge.

“Which one of you still has your swimsuit on?” Peter jokes. “Be honest.”

Janet and Thor both raise their hands, looking proud of it. “I didn’t take mine off until we were changing to come here,” she says.

Tony laughs, echoed by some of the other alphas. They’ve been more subdued since the end of the pageant than they were before it, and he thinks he knows why. He glances at Ty at the other end of the couch, who’s still wearing his sash and crown. Part of him knows that it was unfair to declare Ty the winner when he didn’t do a talent like the others had. But the talent—or the walk—was never the point anyway, and he wishes they saw that. He was looking for someone who would be bold, someone who would put themselves out there, willing to look like an idiot, in the name of impressing him.

Ty did just that. No, it wasn’t a talent. But it was a public declaration of feelings, which had had the potential to so easily go the wrong way. He might have stumbled over his words. The audience could have booed him. Tony might not have liked him as much as he does. It took guts to forego the talent and declare that he was falling in love with him, and that, in Tony’s eyes, is exactly what he was looking for with the pageant.

So even though he knows that the other alphas don’t understand it, he wishes they would get over it. The pageant is over and done with, and just because Tony liked him at the pageant, that doesn’t mean that he’ll give Ty the group date rose. It’s still up for grabs.

“I was very impressed,” he says. “You showed me how bold you are in your own unique way.” He lifts the champagne flute sitting on the table. As if on cue, everyone grabs their champagne glass as well. “Here’s to all of you for being bold and confident and making me feel like royalty.”

“You are,” Pepper says, sitting next to him. “You definitely are.”

Tony smiles at her and presses his shoulder against hers briefly. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” everyone choruses, lifting their flutes and tapping them against each other’s.

Tony thinks that’s the end of it, that the next thing that happens will be someone whisking him off to one of the private alcoves for some one-on-one time, but Bruce suddenly says, “I would like to give a toast.”

He’s surprised, but it’s not like no one else is ever allowed to give toasts, so Tony shrugs and says, “Go for it.”

Bruce nods and looks around at everyone. “Here’s to being real. To being honest. To making sure that you’re doing this for a real reason, that this is love forever, not just for fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Ty says as everyone taps their glasses together again. “Well said, Bruce.”

Bruce takes a sip from his flute.

“Hey, Tony,” Ty says before he fully sits back down. “Can I steal you for a second?”

Tony grins at him and gets up. “Yeah, of course. Steal me all you want.”

He’s not stupid. He knows that Bruce’s speech was pointed at one particular alpha. But he just doesn’t think that any of them get it. Yes, it’s fast, but he and Ty have known each other since they were children. It might have been childhood puppy love back then, but there’s nothing wrong with those developing into real feelings.

And Tony is… he’s lonely, okay? Every other relationship he’s ever had has crashed and burned because they weren’t there for him, because they were there, as the show would say, for the wrong reasons. Ty wasn’t the only alpha to reassure him after the Whitney debacle that he would never do that to him, but he was the only one to tell him that he was there specifically for him.

There’s a high probability that a lot of these alphas are just here to get their fifteen minutes of fame; that’s how it used to go on this show. To know, with such certainty, that Ty is here for him, that he’s here for love forever, as Bruce had put it… it’s a heady feeling.

And maybe none of the others get that, but they don’t have to. It’s not their relationship. It’s his, and when he looks at Ty, his heart skips several beats. That’s what matters.

Ty leads him to one of the alcoves and shuts the white curtains around them (and the cameraman, but Tony is an expert at ignoring those). They’re gauzy enough that if anyone tries to eavesdrop, Tony will be able to see them and shoo them off, but opaque enough to give the illusion of privacy.

“How are you feeling?” Ty asks solicitously.

Tony, I’m genuinely starting to fall in love with you.

“I’m great,” he says honestly, resting his chin on his hand.

“Yeah? I’m glad to hear that. And, uh…” He looks down and picks at the wagyu sliders on the table. “How are you with what I said?”

“Hmm,” Tony muses. He knows what he wants to say, but he forces himself to think past the rush of Ty’s words. If it had been someone else, anyone else, how would he have reacted? “We just met for the first time in almost twenty years last week. And out of that time, we’ve really only known each other for a few hours. I guess I have to ask how are you sure? It’s so fast, Ty, and I want to believe you—trust me, I really do—but how do you know that it’s love and not just an infatuation?” He taps his fingers on the table. “It’s a big deal to say, you know? I don’t tell everyone I date that I’m in love with them. It takes time for me. So how can you say that to me now when it’s only been a week?”

“Tony,” Ty says warmly. He shifts around the couch until they’re sitting right next to each other, his thigh a warm, distracting line against Tony’s own. “Do you think I would jump a fence for just anyone? You haven’t left my mind once since we were children, but I didn’t know what it was until I started hearing the rumors that you would be the next bachelorette. I thought about that, about someone else courting you and falling in love with you and eventually marrying you, and it just made my heart hurt. I couldn’t let it happen without at least trying to win your heart myself. It may seem short to you, but I never forgot you. For me, it’s been a very long time coming. I am starting to fall in love with you because I feel like I’ve been on that precipice my entire life.”

He's blushing. Tony knows that he’s blushing. He can feel the heat in his cheeks. Ty’s simple, plainspoken confession makes him want to burrow into Ty and never leave. And since there’s nothing stopping him, that’s exactly what he does.

He plants his face in Ty’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around Ty’s waist. Ty doesn’t hesitate for a second before enfolding Tony into a hug, rubbing his hands up and down Tony’s back.

“I was worried,” Ty confesses, “about telling you. I didn’t know how you would handle it or if you’d think that I wasn’t being genuine about this, but I am. I have never meant anything more. I’ll shout it from the rooftop if you wanted me to.”

“That’s all I’m asking for,” Tony says, muffled by Ty’s suit jacket. “For someone to be bold and to fight for me, and you’re definitely doing that.”

Ty hums. One of his hands leaves Tony’s back only to slide under his chin and tilt his head up. Tony can read it in his eyes, and he wants this, so he stays right there as Ty leans in and kisses him.

And when he does, Tony swears that fireworks go off behind his eyes.

“You were incredible today,” Tony tells Bruce.

“Thanks,” Bruce replies dryly. “The swimsuit portion was kind of rough. I definitely don’t have a body like Thor’s.”

Tony laughs. “Neither do I, don’t worry. And yeah, so your swimsuit was rough, but the chemistry demo was so cool. I have no idea how you did it since the densities definitely shouldn’t have worked out like that, but it was such an amazing visual.”

“I’d tell you but I have to keep some secrets.”

“Right, yeah, of course,” Tony agrees, though there’s a part of him that’s a little disappointed he won’t know how to do it on his own.

“It’s a actually a demonstration that I do for my students whenever I have to teach Gen Chem in the hopes that they’ll wake up enough to pay attention to the rest of the lecture.”

“They must love that,” Tony says wryly, thinking back to his own undergrad days. He’d only been fourteen at the time and desperate to please but he remembers plenty of his classmates sleeping right through the lectures.

Bruce shakes his head, chuckling. “It’s usually an early morning lecture. I’m lucky if half of them even show up.”

“And miss hearing your Kermit the Frog impersonation?” Tony declares, aghast. He presses his hand against his chest dramatically. “Say it isn’t so!”

Bruce laughs again. “I wish I could say it wasn’t, but by the end of the semester, I probably only have a hundred students showing up out of a class of three hundred.”

“Awful,” Tony replies, shaking his head. If he’d had a professor like Bruce, sweet and nerdy and maybe not model levels of hot but definitely adorable, he would have been at every class, and he might’ve even written Love You in his eyelids like the omega in Indiana Jones.

He might’ve gotten expelled for sexual harassment, but Bruce would’ve been worth it.

“So, Peter,” Tony says. Peter looks up at him with puffed-out cheeks, stuffed full of the short-rib tacos on the table in this alcove. “You were absolutely amazing today. I had no idea you wrote songs in addition to dancing.”

“Oh yeah,” Peter starts to say around his mouthful. Tony’s disgust must show on his face because he stops talking and swallows. “Sorry. That was rude.”

Well, at least he can admit it.

“Uh, where was I? Oh, right. Singing. Yeah, playing the guitar and writing my own songs, it’s just something I dabble in between classes. I wouldn’t say I’m amazing at it, but it’s something that my mom and I used to do together.”

Tony can recognize a leading line when he hears one, and even if he hadn’t, there’s clearly a story there. “Used to?” he asks gently.

“Yeah, um—” Peter stops and takes a deep breath, then another when the first one apparently doesn’t calm him as much as he was hoping it would. “My mom died when I was a kid. She’d been sick for a long time, the doctors didn’t know what was wrong with her, but it was like this slow decline. She was holding steady for a while, so she and my dad sent me to summer camp.”

He sniffs and scrubs at his eyes, dashing away the tears that have sprung up. Tony shifts closer to him and wraps his arm around Peter’s shoulders, offering silent comfort.

“It happened so fast,” Peter whispers. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye. And then when I got home—my grandparents, her parents, they thought it was suspicious that she was doing fine while I was there, but as soon as I was gone, she… They got an autopsy. Turned out my dad didn’t want to be married anymore but my mom was unemployed and he didn’t want to pay alimony or have to deal with a custody battle. So I came home for my mom’s funeral, and he was arrested right after.”

“God, Peter,” Tony says softly, squeezing his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” He can relate, actually, but he doesn’t feel ready to talk about that. Besides, it’s clear that there’s more to the story.

“Thanks,” Peter says. “Um, my mom’s the one who got me into music. She had this old convertible and we’d drive through the Missouri cornfields with the top down, blaring classic rock as loud as the radio would go. Sometimes, before bed, she’d write these songs with me, just stupid shit like picking up my toys or doing my homework. When she got sick, I’d write her songs about my day at school or how I was feeling. Just became habit, I guess, so I kept doing it after she was gone. I actually thought about going into music, but I couldn’t imagine performing without my mom. So I went into dance instead.”

“You performed for me,” Tony says carefully.

“Yeah, well.” Peter gives him a watery smile. “It seemed right. She would’ve liked you.”

“Miss Potts,” Tony states.

“Mr. Stark,” Pepper replies evenly.

“Juggling.”

“What about it?”

“That is an incredibly unique skill to have, especially from someone in six-inch stilettos.”

Pepper laughs. She has a nice laugh. It makes her eyes light up. “When I was in high school, I used to be able to juggle and ride a unicycle at the same time.”

“Are you serious?” Tony exclaims, goggling at her.

“Mmhmm,” she hums, looking very pleased with herself for stunning him.

He sits back, appraising her. “Miss Potts,” he says eventually. “You grow more and more interesting each time I talk to you.”

She flashes him a quicksilver grin, there and gone. “Good,” she says primly and pops one of the cheese on crackers into her mouth.

“Come sit with me,” Tony tells Thor without looking at him, his gaze arrested by the moonlit sea outside the window. He feels more than hears Thor settle into the booth beside him. Given how exuberant Thor is about everything, he expects that he’ll talk first, but Thor surprises him by sitting quietly while Tony gathers his thoughts.

Eventually, Tony feels ready to talk. “You put on one hell of a show today,” he says, finally turning away from the window to look at him. Thor is looking back at him with an unreadable expression, somehow picking up that this isn’t going to be as fun and lighthearted a conversation as it’s been in the past.

“It was fun,” Thor says, the statement in contrast to the solemn expression he sports. “I enjoyed it. Gamora and the other pageant winners are to be commended for their talent and hard work.”

“Yeah,” Tony agrees. He was hoping that someone would pick up on how much work goes into being an omega in society today. It’s not as easy as alphas assume it to be. “I noticed you seemed like you were having a lot of fun up there. Probably more than most of the others. And I liked that you threw yourself into the whole thing! That’s exactly what I was looking for today.”

“But?” Thor prompts intuitively.

Tony raises one shoulder and drops it again. “But… I couldn’t help but notice a pattern.”

“The Viking thing.”

“Yeah. The Viking thing. I know I started it with that joke I made when we met about your namesake, but I feel like maybe it’s started to go too far. I mean, you showed up to the mansion in a full Vikings costume, and then you had to wear that for the entire cocktail party.” For three full nights, he doesn’t say but knows that Thor hears it anyway. “And then you wear the chainmail speedo and then the display with the axe, and I just… Look, if that’s you, then that’s you. But I gave my rose to the alpha who wore a suit to our first meeting, not the one in leather armor. I just want to know what I’m getting myself into, Thor.”

Thor nods slowly and leans back against the armrest, clearly letting Tony’s words sink in. Tony lets him think about it. When this episode is aired, if the editors keep this conversation in, the long pause will be cut down to Thor’s immediate reply, but that’s not how real life works. In real life, people need time to think about their responses when someone challenges them.

“Perhaps I took it too far,” Thor concedes finally. “I once dated someone who compared me to a golden retriever, and like a retriever, sometimes I have a problem letting go of something. I found it funny that you compared me to a god, and I believed that you found it funny also, so I kept it going. But I see now where you may have questioned my sincerity. That was never my intention. I am serious about you, about us.”

“I don’t want to make you change yourself for me,” Tony says, thinking about how much time it takes to learn a dance like the one Thor had presented at the pageant.

“You aren’t,” he assures him. “I have been unyielding in the face of an omega’s displeasure before. It did not end well. I would rather let go of a joke than make you believe that I think of us as that joke.”

Janet greets him with the same zest for life as she always does, leaning up on her toes to give him air kisses. Tony busses her cheek in return. He’s never given anyone air kisses before in his entire life, but it’s something that Janet just brings out in him. She’s so vivacious that it’s impossible not to be happy around her in return.

“You don’t wear a lot of dresses, do you?” she says knowingly once they’ve sat down.

Tony opens his mouth and then shuts it. “How did you know?” he asks sheepishly. Omega fashion in general runs the gamut from dresses to pants, though typically more delicate than alpha fashion, but, as with alphas, there’s a split along first gender lines with female omegas wearing more dresses. It’s not that Tony never wears dresses, but growing up in the cutthroat business world as he did, he grew up used to jumpsuits and blouses, which, irritatingly, are deemed to be more “professional.”

Janet laughs brightly, unoffended by the implication that he hadn’t cared about her talent. “I’d be a pretty poor fashion designer if I couldn’t recognize when a design wasn’t landing. You thought it was interesting but it’s not something you’d ever wear yourself.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Not to say that it wasn’t cool. It just wasn’t for me.”

“Damn,” she swears affably, snapping her fingers. “I knew I should’ve gone with yodeling.”

Tony blinks at her. “Is… that something that you’re capable of doing?”

“I’d prove it here,” she says matter-of-factly. “But it’s kind of loud, and I’m pretty sure that Peter would drop a glass if I did.”

He laughs. He hasn’t known Peter for very long, but when he thinks back on his misstep at their introduction, he can see Peter being the kind of person to drop something when they’re startled.

“I don’t know if you needed to yodel,” he says, returning to their original topic, “but I think I was just hoping that I’d see you branch out from what you’re used to. Your introduction was really memorable, and I could have guessed that you would absolutely rock the runway walk—which you did! But I get it! You’re a fashion designer. Now, what else are you?”

“Huh,” she says thoughtfully. She taps her chin, then adds, “I know a lot about ants.”

“…Ants?”

“And wasps.”

“Wasps?”

“Yep. I dated an omega once who did his dissertation on ants. He liked to wind down by keeping wasps.”

“And he found that… relaxing?” Tony asks dubiously.

Janet laughs, the sound a little sad. “Yeah. Confused me too.”

“I think I know what you’re thinking,” Carol says, picking at the bread on the table.

“Do I?” Tony asks mildly. He figures she probably does—she seems like the type of person to pick up his lack of enthusiasm for her part in the pageant—but he could be wrong.

“I didn’t put all of my effort into the pageant,” she says.

Yep, she knows. “No,” he agrees. “I was surprised. We had such a good conversation that first night. I thought you would easily take the prize for this one. What happened?”

“I…” Carol sighs and keeps shredding her bread. Tony reaches over and tugs it out of her hand, replacing it with his. She looks down at their hands like she doesn’t quite know what to do with them, so Tony threads their fingers together.

“It’s okay,” he says gently. “You can tell me if you want to.”

“I… I don’t like acting like I’m someone I’m not,” she confesses.

“But—”

“I know but—” She makes a frustrated sound and thunks her head down on the table. “I used to be able to do this. I’d go out to bars when I was at USAFA and Maria and me would do karaoke. But then there was this accident back during resistance training… I couldn’t remember anything, I couldn’t figure out who was my friend or my enemy, I—” She breaks off with a sigh. “I did some really awful things. Ever since then, it’s been hard to let myself go like that again. Even for the smallest things like pageants. It’s not that I don’t want to prove myself for you. It’s just that—I don’t like feeling like I’m not being myself anymore.”

Tony squeezes her hand. “Thank you for telling me that,” he tells her. “It means a lot to me.”

After hearing such a heavy story, it’s hard to get back in the mood to talk to Natasha, but he pulls himself together and manages it. It’s only one more conversation and then he can go back to his hotel room, write down his notes about everyone, and spend tomorrow being antisocial and thinking about who he’s going to ask on the one-on-one. He’s already pretty sure he knows who he’ll ask but he wants to be positive.

Fuck, he’s so ready to be antisocial for twenty-four hours. It’s only Week Two, and it’s already pulling on him how packed this schedule is. He doesn’t remember being this exhausted during the filming for his parents’ twentieth anniversary (of course, he hadn’t been a main character back then either). He feels like he barely gets enough time to stop and breathe and reflect. No wonder so many of these relationships end when all they’ve got to go on is gut feeling and the dizzying rush of new emotions. Insisting on the full ten week schedule was definitely a good idea on his part.

“That was some dance,” he compliments Natasha when she joins him.

“Thank you,” she says. “I was the Sugar Plum Fairy during last year’s production. I still remember the dance?”

“Were you?” Tony asks, impressed though he’s not sure why. He’d known she was a principal. “I don’t go to the ballet very much. I’m not in New York a whole lot, and when I’m there for Christmas, Mom always wants to see the Rockettes.”

“Ah yes,” Natasha says, an amused glimmer in her eyes. “New York’s other dance company.”

“I think she wanted to be a Rockette when she grew up,” he tells her. “But she barely reaches five feet.”

Natasha chuckles. “The plight of many people.”

“Yeah,” he says. “So why a ballerina?” It’s perhaps an inane conversation to have, but after Carol’s heavy confession, he feels the need to be a little inane.

She shrugs elegantly. “Because dance transcends us all. Ballet is proof that I don’t have to say a single word to make you feel something. We put so much emphasis on words, but the truth is—silence says just as much.” Beneath the table, her foot brushes against Tony’s, making his breath catch. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

He makes a strangled noise.

Tony gets whisked away to a confessional after his conversation with Natasha. Coulson asks him his thoughts about everyone, so he talks about Natasha’s easy sensuality and Ty taking his breath away and Peter’s heartbreaking honesty. And of course he talks about how his conversations with Thor and Janet and Carol went, his biggest… well, not disappointments because they all did things that impressed him this week, but perhaps the ones that have left him with the most questions.

Thor leaned too far into a persona.

Janet stuck with what was safe.

And Carol… fuck, he can’t imagine what she went through and how he would have reacted to going through it himself. He can’t blame her for wanting to be true to herself at all times. But at the same time, he has to wonder if that makes them incompatible. So much of his life is spent behind press smiles and practiced speeches. It has to be when he’s that much of a public figure. And if that’s not something that she can do for a pageant that had zero stakes, then how would she react when it really matters?

But eventually he runs out of words, and now he has a decision to make. Who is getting tonight’s group date rose? Who will be safe at this week’s rose ceremony? Who does he know, with complete certainty, that he wants to keep on for another week?

“Good to see you all,” he says when he rejoins the group. Ty has discarded his crown and sash somewhere. Janet has kicked off her heels. They look comfortable but expectant, so he decides not to keep them in suspense. “All of you were so amazing today. You really impressed me with the amount of fun you had up there and your talents. I’d say that you surprised me, but I already knew we’d be learning so much about each other today! I’m so excited for the rest of this journey and getting to know more about all of you.”

He picks up the rose and twirls it between his fingers. “I only have this one rose to give out tonight, but trust me, I wish I had another seven. So tonight, I want to give this rose to someone who shined the brightest today. Someone who was bold, who didn’t care what anyone else thought about them, who bared their heart to me with honesty and vulnerability.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ty straighten up.

“I want to give this rose to Peter.”

Peter looks stunned, like he can’t actually believe that Tony actually wants to give him tonight’s rose. Tony giggles, which turns into a full laugh when Peter points at himself incredulously.

“Yeah, you,” he says.

“Oh,” Peter says faintly. “Right.”

“Peter,” Tony starts and then has to wait for Peter to get up and sit next to him, nudging aside Natasha as he does. “Peter, will you accept this rose?”

Thor starts applauding first, a good-natured smile on his face. Just about everyone else joins in, but Tony doesn’t bother looking to see who didn’t take their loss gracefully when Peter is grinning that sweet, boyish grin at him.

“Yes,” Peter says. “Times infinity.”

Tony laughs again as he pins the rose to Peter’s jacket. “Thank you,” he murmurs, pulling him in for a tight hug. “Thank you for being open with me tonight.”

“Always,” Peter promises.

Chapter Text

The doorbell rings, startling everyone from their conversation about how the group date went yesterday. Steve is the first person to climb to his feet, which apparently means that he’s the person who has to go collect the date card.

When he gets back, the room is tense. There are thirteen other people in this room besides him who didn’t go on the date yesterday, and they all want to go on the one-on-one date tomorrow. Steve did finally take the time to talk to Sharon and knows now that the one-on-ones are where connections really happen. The person who receives the most one-on-one dates is usually the season winner since it’s hard to form a solid connection when you’re jockeying for time against seven other people.

For his part, Steve still isn’t too concerned about it. After all, he’s not really a contestant. Giving him a one-on-one would just be a waste of both of their times. But he can appreciate how nervous the others are, so he doesn’t try to draw out opening the envelope for the sake of drama.

He smiles when he sees the name on the card. Most of his time over the last few days has been spent investigating the alphas who make his hackles rise, but he’s made a few friends, and it’s one of them who’ll be going on the coveted one-on-one.

“’Bucky,’” he reads. Bucky breathes out explosively. Sam reaches over to give him a fist bump. “’Let’s toast to our relationship and to new beginnings. Tony.’”

“Congratulations, man,” Sam says sincerely. “You deserve getting this time.”

Steve carefully doesn’t look at Justin, but Justin apparently feels the need to make his thoughts known anyway. “Tony wants someone who’s bold,” he says loudly. “Sitting back and watching other people eat up all his time is the opposite of being bold.”

Sam rolls his eyes. Bucky says pointedly, “And interrupting someone on the very first night is just fuckin’ rude, but I haven’t said anything about it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to pick out what I’m wearing tomorrow. I have a date.”

“How are you feeling?” Thor asks kindly the next morning once most of them are gathered by the pool the next morning, surrounded by cameras. It doesn’t escape Steve’s notice that the alphas not present are largely the ones he’s keeping an eye on, with the exception of Carol, who’s been somewhat subdued since she came back from the group date.

Bucky, whose skin is a worrying shade of green, readily admits, “Kinda terrified. It’s the first one-on-one date. That carries some kinda weight to it, you know?” He shakes his metal arm out. “An’ it doesn’t help that this thing’s been actin’ up.”

“Like it’s going to crush Tony’s hand kind of bad?” Justin pipes up.

Bucky’s face washes white. “I hadn’t—do you think it’s gonna do that?” he asks anxiously. “Maybe I should cancel until I can get—”

Justin looks like he’s going to step in and oh-so-kindly offer to take Bucky’s date off his hands, so Steve interrupts. “It’s not going to crush Tony’s hand,” he says firmly, throwing an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and squeezing reassuringly. “Besides, if you’re that worried about it, Tony is probably the one person on the planet who knows it better than you do. He can fix whatever’s up with it.”

It takes a second but the words clearly do filter through Bucky’s mind, and he slowly relaxes. “Yeah, okay.” He nods to himself. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s not spasming, anyway. Just kinda hurts.”

“That really sucks, man,” Sam says sympathetically. “I’ve got some Ibuprofen if that might help?”

Bucky opens his mouth to reply, but Justin hurries to say, “You really should think about staying—”

“Go away, Justin,” Steve says, annoyed. “Bucky’s not going to give up his one-on-one, and even if he was, he wouldn’t give it to you.”

Justin huffs, “I was just asking,” and stalks away with his nose in the air.

“Oh, very well done,” Janet applauds him. Steve has the distinct feeling of déjà vu. He has no idea why no one else feels comfortable shooing these pests away unless maybe it looks badly on them for the show, but he doesn’t have to worry about looking badly, so he can shoo all the people he wants.

“I don’t like bullies,” he mutters, feeling embarrassed now that he’s taken the spotlight off of Bucky, who is where it should be.

“Look, I’m gonna go get you the Ibuprofen,” Sam says, standing. “Even if it doesn’t help, it definitely won’t hurt. It just ain’t right for you to go on your date in pain.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Bucky protests but he’s already gone.

Sam gets back right as the sound of a car pulling into the driveway floats into the backyard. The noise brings the remaining alphas out to the pool, including Justin, who tries one more time to convince Bucky to give him his one-on-one, but Steve shuts that down with a fierce glare. Bucky deserves this, and Justin’s an asshole, so there will be no trading on his watch.

Bucky dry swallows the pills and then muses, “Guess I should head out there, huh?” He stands up and wipes his sweaty hand on his grey slacks.

“Actually,” Wong says, “Tony is coming to you.”

“What?” Bucky exclaims, a slightly alarmed look on his face, but Tony is bounding out the door to the mansion, sporting a bright grin.

“Hey!” he says cheerfully.

“Hi,” everyone choruses back.

“Hi,” Bucky says after a second, tone slightly strangled. Steve isn’t competing for Tony’s heart, but he gets his reaction. For today, Tony has chosen a white blouse with slit bishop sleeves, revealing lean, muscular arms, and an asymmetrical collar, baring one shoulder, tucked into slim-fit black slacks that showcase what Dum Dum (because he has no sense of propriety) would call a bubble butt. If Steve were actually trying to date him, he'd probably sound like he swallowed a frog too.

Tony gives Bucky a softer smile and asks, “Are you ready for today?”

Bucky visibly pulls himself together and says, “Yeah, absolutely.”

Tony gives him a knowing look but asks everyone else, “How are we doing?”

“Very excited for our guy, Bucky, here,” Sam says before Justin can say anything about Bucky’s nerves or his arm.

“Oh yeah,” Janet agrees, also shooting Justin a sharp glare of her own. Justin sulks but leans back into the cushions. “He’s gonna do fantastic.”

“Yeah?” Tony asks hopefully.

“They’re a very supportive group of alphas,” Bucky says, grinning at them all. He’s starting to look more relaxed now that Tony is actually here and the anticipation is over. “Great couple of alphas you’ve got here.”

“That’s so nice,” Tony says. He grins wolfishly at the rest of them. “You’re gonna talk shit about him once we leave, aren’t you.”

Everyone laughs.

“Maybe,” Bucky says. “Probably.”

“Hell no, man,” Sam says vehemently. Steve makes an assenting noise, noting which alphas also agree and which ones don’t. “Bucky deserves this.”

“Good,” Tony says. He glances up at the sky where an odd sort of whirring noise—like a helicopter but smoother—is steadily growing louder. “Hey, I think our ride’s here.”

Everyone looks to the sky where the Archangel, the Stark Industries prototype jet capable of a vertical takeoff and landing, is coming into view over the mountains. “Ohhh!” a couple of them shout excitedly. Bucky lets out an incredulous laugh.

“We’re taking that?” he asks.

“Would I have brought it out here if we weren’t?” Tony asks, eyes twinkling.

They all head out around the front of the mansion where the jet is landing in the driveway. Steve has to admit it’s pretty cool. Sharon had mentioned back when this all started that the production team is going all out in deference to Tony’s wealth, but considering that this is an SI prototype, he’d say that Tony is going all out too.

“It’s like a superhero movie!” Bucky shouts to Tony over the sound of the jet.

“I know!” Tony shouts back. “Isn’t it great?”

The pilot opens the ramp to the jet, motioning Tony and Bucky on. Immediately, Tony is off heading for the jet, shouting something inane about a platypus. Bucky hangs back for another second, looking nervous again.

“Hey,” Steve says reassuringly. “You’ve got this.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah,” Sam assures him, clapping him on the back. “Go get him, tiger.”

“I didn’t know you’d be our pilot today,” Tony says delightedly once he’s reached Rhodey’s side.

“I called in today, said that I was needed for official SI liaison business,” Rhodey says, winking at him. Tony laughs and gives him a quick hug. “So, that’s your pick for your first one-on-one, huh? Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always had a hard-on for your own tech.”

“Rhodey!” Tony exclaims, slapping his arm. “How rude. I like Bucky for many reasons.” He looks at Bucky, finally heading towards them. “And maybe I felt bad because my time with him last week was interrupted.”

“And you think that arm of his is sexy.”

“And… okay, yeah, I do think that arm is sexy,” Tony admits ruefully. Rhodey snorts, just as Bucky reaches them. He hits the button to bring the ramp up. “Bucky Bear, this is my Platypus, my very best friend since college, Rhodey.”

None of the nerves that Bucky had clearly had earlier show on his face when he sticks his hand out for Rhodey to shake. “Captain,” he says evenly, not wincing even though Tony knows that Rhodey has to be squeezing his hand too tight.

“Your intentions better be honorable with my boy,” Rhodey warns him. “Because not even that fancy arm will save you if you hurt him.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t plan on hurting him then, isn’t it?” Bucky replies.

“Alright, now that you’ve done your stupid posturing, can we go now?” Tony asks, pushing past both of them into the cabin.

“Holy shit,” Bucky says, eyes widening when he follows Tony and sees the luxury of the cabin—cream-colored leather seats, a champagne bar, and a small kitchenette tucked into a corner (in as much as planes can have corners).

“Yeah, it’s nice, isn’t it?” Tony says, folding himself into one of the seats. Bucky collapses into the one across from him. Rhodey slips past them and into the cockpit. Tony immediately turns and looks out the window to watch their takeoff. A completely vertical takeoff is always cool, no matter how many times Tony has done it. “This isn’t one of my projects. It’s actually my dad’s baby, but he was willing to let the production team use it for today. It’ll get us where we’re going in half the time.”

“And where is that?” Bucky asks curiously, also looking out the window. He waves at someone—probably Steve or Sam. Those three seemed to be getting closer when he arrived.

“Well, production’s trying to go all out with impressing the viewers because I have money and everyone knows it,” he says, ignoring Dave the Cameraguy’s huff at Tony’s explicit acknowledgement of the money Bachelor Nation is throwing around. Morita, in his chair, is snickering as he pretends to read a book. “So today, we are going to Napa!”

“Wait, the Napa?” Bucky asks, jaw slightly slack.

“Yep,” Tony says brightly. “Have you ever been?”

Bucky gestures at himself from his bun to his lightly scuffed dress shoes. “Do I look like I’ve ever been to Napa? I’m a mechanic.”

That’s really all Tony considers himself to be too, but he concedes the point. Napa is a fairly expensive part of California, and not everyone has access to the kind of money that he has.

“Well, you’ll get to say you’ve been now,” he says. “We’re doing a tour and tasting at Domaine Carneros today.”

What Tony doesn’t say is that he would have been perfectly content with going dirt bike riding in the mountains outside the mansion and then grabbing cheeseburgers for dinner, but when Pierce had approached him with the schedule and he’d brought that up, he’d been quickly shot down. The Bachelor Nation viewers expect a certain level of wealth from Tony’s season, a level that he’s sure the alphas he picked for him will also want. So Tony had better act like he goes to Napa every single week and drinks two thousand dollar bottles of champagne at every event and do it all with a smile on his face or Pierce will find him in breach of contract for the lack of a sellable story.

Dave approaches them then to steal Bucky away for a quick confessional in the cargo hold. One of the other camera operators, whose name Tony hasn’t caught yet, asks Tony for his hopes for today’s date.

“It’s my first one-on-one,” he says, crossing his legs. “So that has me really excited in general, but I’m also really excited about Bucky. We didn’t get to talk for very long at the cocktail party—” Before they were interrupted, he doesn’t say—“but I really felt a connection there. Bucky is a mechanic from Brooklyn. I will inherit a multibillion dollar company and my mom comes from Italian nobility. We come from very different worlds. So today, I’m looking to see if Bucky can fit into my world. I had a bit of an eye opener with Carol earlier, realizing that, even though we get along, maybe she isn’t the best person to stand at my side in front of the cameras. I’m hoping that Bucky can show me he can go to these high-end business dinners or events and still feel as comfortable there as he does in a garage.”

Bucky walks back in.

“Have fun?” Tony asks.

“It’s fucking loud back there,” Bucky tells him.

He laughs. “I’ll tell my dad to get on that.”

Tony has been to Domaine Carneros before for a business lunch with his dad back when they were celebrating the grand opening of Stark Industries Malibu. Even if he hadn’t been, the ostentatious grandiosity of the château isn’t anywhere near the most impressive thing he’s ever seen in his life. Bucky, however, is very impressed, and it really doesn’t hurt anything to keep his mouth shut about the relative merits of French, Italian, and Californian vineyards.

They actually have two tastings, as they both find out, starting with the Bubbles and Bites tasting first, then taking a tour of the six vineyards on the grounds, and then ending with the Plat de Perles tasting before they head out for dinner.

Their first tasting is up on the top floor of the château in the Le Reve room. Tony’s last visit to the vineyard had been held in this room too, and now, just as he had back then, he has to stifle a snort at the thought that it doesn’t look any different than a standard boardroom. They have the room to themselves, making their voices echo unpleasantly in the cavernous space, but the view is fantastic, and besides, Tony has always believed that it's not where he is that makes a date good but the company he’s with.

The ninety-minute tasting flies by quickly. They make light conversation about Bucky’s work as a mechanic and Tony’s job in R&D in between bites of halibut (which feels incongruous with the Mediterranean vibe of the tasting but Tony knows nothing about halibut fishing so maybe it’s completely accurate), salad with a honey herb oil, roasted eggplant, pan-seared chicken, and a panna cotta tart that takes the cake for tastiest part of the meal, all rounded off with three ounces of the estate’s top-selling sparkling wines.

“I always thought sparkling wine was just champagne,” Bucky says, lifting up the demi-sec they’re finishing with.

“It depends on where the grape is from and where the wine was bottled,” Tony supplies, taking a sip out of his glass.

Bucky raises a skeptical eyebrow. “So it’s just the same thing but one of them gets a fancy name because it was made somewhere else?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Well, that’s just pretentious.”

Tony giggle-snorts into his wine as their sommelier tries and fails to hide her scandalized expression.

They both have to do a confessional before they embark on the tour, so Tony talks about how funny Bucky is and how good of a conversationalist he found him to be.

“I never felt bored talking to him,” he says, pleased with how their lunch turned out. “I know that he’s someone I can hold a conversation with instead of worrying if they can’t follow along. I feel like, living in Malibu, so close to Hollywood, sometimes when I go out clubbing, I wind up talking to people who can’t hold more than one thought in their head at a time.” Grinning wickedly, because he knows this part will get cut during edits, “Talking to Whitney made me feel like that. But talking to Bucky is fantastic. He easily keeps up with me when I change topics on him, he always has something to say, and I don’t have to worry about going over his head.”

When they head back outside, they’re met with two golf carts and the vineyard manager Alberto, who gets them settled on one of the golf carts with Dave in the front seat and Morita and Sharon in the back and the remaining camera operators and Dernier in the second golf cart. Alberto tells them a little bit about the history of the estate and the château before starting off towards the estate vineyard, the oldest one on the property.

Tony takes a sip out of the bottle of water provided for them, idly looking out at the rows of grapes. After a few minutes, he feels Bucky’s hand creep into his own, tangling their fingers together. The callouses on his hand are rough but grounding, and his grip is warm but not sweaty. Tony looks over at him and smiles. When Bucky smiles back at him, Tony shifts closer to him on the bench seat, lifting their hands into his lap, and places his head on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky presses a swift kiss against his hair before resting his cheek on top of his head. Tony smiles to himself again and listens as Alberto explains the history of Domaine Carneros.

They’re ushered into the Salon des Rêves when they return to the château, which is tucked away at the bottom of a hidden staircase. Tony has never been to this one, so he’s pleasantly surprised to find that it’s much more plushily decorated than the boardroom upstairs. Adorned with Art Deco furnishings in greens and golds, the space inexplicably reminds him a champagne bottle.

Bucky leans over and mutters into his ear, “Much nicer than the last place, huh?”

Tony snickers.

After they’re seated but before their sommelier arrives, Darcy walks in and chirps, “Hey, guys, we’re just finishing up getting ready for your dinner, but the chefs wanted you to order now so they could have everything set up and ready to go once you get there.”

“Ooh great,” Tony says, taking a look at the menu she passes him. It takes him just a minute to decide what he’ll want, so he hands it back to her. “I’ll take the pumpkin bisque for my first course, the sunchoke risotto for the second, the lamb for the main, and the milk chocolate mousse for dessert.”

“And your wine?”

“The house merlot will be fine, but just for the main. I’ll take water for the other courses.” He’ll need it after this next tasting.

Bucky is still frowning at his menu. Tony can understand how something that doesn’t list the prices on it can be intimidating, so he plans on giving him the space to make his decision, but then Bucky says, “I’ve never had caviar before.”

Tony personally doesn’t like caviar, but when it gets mentioned as the fancy dish to try if you ever get the opportunity, he doesn’t begrudge him wanting to see what all the fuss is about.

“Do you want to try it?” he asks.

“Not for an extra ninety bucks,” Bucky says, eyeing the price dubiously.

Tony hides a grin in his napkin. “I’d be happy to pay the difference.”

“I don’t wanna use your money like that.” Bucky looks scandalized at the very suggestion. Tony decides then and there on the spot that he is most definitely going to take the opportunity to kiss Bucky on the way back to the mansion. He’s dated very few people who didn’t want to take advantage of his money when it was offered.

“I don’t get to spend my money on people who deserve it very often,” he says. “Please let me?” Before Bucky can keep protesting—which he really does appreciate, but it’s wholly unnecessary—he turns to Darcy and says, “Can you add the caviar onto my order?”

Bucky gapes at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “You really didn’t have to do that,” he eventually manages through a strangled voice.

“Bucky,” Tony says gently, taking his hand. “You have to learn to take these opportunities when they come.”

Eventually, Bucky’s open mouth closes and he smiles ruefully. “Yeah. I guess you might send me home tonight and I’ll never get to try caviar again.”

Tony says coyly, “Oh, I don’t know. I like your chances.”

Bucky grins at him, passes his menu to Darcy, and says, “Could I please get the chilled lobster for my first course?”

“Sure thing,” Darcy says, winking at him. “And what else?”

“The yellowfin tuna for my second course, the beef pavé for my main, and the pumpkin custard for dessert? Please?”

“And for your wine? Will you be doing the same thing, just for the main course?”

“Uh, yeah.” He gives Tony a slightly panicked look. “I don’t know anythin’ about wine.”

“You’re in luck,” Tony informs him. “Because I do. Darcy, he’ll take the Presqu’ile Syrah Santa.”

“Absolutely,” Darcy says, beaming at them. “See you boys in a few hours.”

They have to take different cars to Auberge du Soleil, the hotel and restaurant they’ll be eating at tonight. They have different outfits to change into for the evening portion of their date, plus the makeup artists want to touch everything up after the several hours they spent driving around Napa in the sun.

“Tony, how are you feeling about Bucky?” Dave asks in the car on their way to the restaurant.

“Today was so much amazing with Bucky. We had so much fun, from the jet to the wine tasting to trying to choke down oysters.” He laughs a little at the memory. “Now we’re having dinner at the beautiful Auberge du Soleil, and I can’t be more excited. Bucky has been just… the perfect first one-on-one that I could have hoped for.” He grins at the camera. “Whoever I ask next week had better bring their A-game because Bucky will be tough to beat.”

Tony had chosen a Zuhair Murad outfit for today in the same style as his cocktail party outfit last week with a short skirt and leggings underneath. The leggings this time are white, while the overlay is matte black and sleeveless. Tiny pearls line the straps, the bodice, and across his waist with a bow where the deep V down his chest meets in the middle. His outfit coordinator went with black Louboutin ankle boots, another string of tiny pearls around the tops of each boot.

Bucky, in contrast, has kept his grey pants but changed out his white shirt for a navy blue one and added the grey waistcoat and suit jacket to finish his ensemble. Gratifyingly, his jaw drops when Tony gets out of the car.

Tony preens and does a small spin for him. “What do you think?” he asks, coming close enough to take Bucky’s offered arm and tucking his hand into the crook of his elbow.

“You look incredible,” Bucky says roughly, leading him inside. “I’m not even gonna be able to look at the view. I’ll be so busy lookin’ at you instead.”

“I sure hope not,” Tony says, shivering at how Bucky’s accent deepens when he’s not thinking about it. He never thought he’d find a Brooklyn accent sexy, but here he is. “I’ve heard the view is fantastic.”

And it is. Auberge du Soleil has a stunning panoramic view of Napa Valley, even though the sun is starting to go down and dusk is closing in on them. “You were right,” Bucky says, pulling Tony’s chair out for him. “That is absolutely stunning.”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” he replies, eyeing the way Bucky shakes his metal hand out before sitting down. “Is—”

“It doesn’t hold a candle to you,” Bucky tells him, grey eyes twinkling.

Tony blushes and fiddles with the stem of his wine glass. “You blew me away today, you know that?”

“Really?” Bucky asks, straightening up.

“Yeah. I knew today would be fun just because I’ve felt this connection between us since you stepped out of the limo.”

“Is it the arm? It’s the arm, isn’t it,” Bucky deadpans.

Tony laughs right as their waiter comes by with their first course. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “I won’t deny that that helped, but a first connection is just that—first. You impressed me more and more every time we talked that night, and I promise you, if the only thing that interested me about you was your arm, you wouldn’t be sitting here tonight.”

“Well, I can’t say I don’t appreciate the honesty,” Bucky says.

Tony shifts his chair closer to him and says, “I knew today would be a good day because we already had that connection, but you surprised me with how natural it felt. I could imagine myself going anywhere with you, no matter how far away from home it was. It was a really good start to this journey, and I wanted to thank you for that.”

“You don’t need to thank me for makin’ you feel at home,” Bucky says gently. “You make me feel at home too. My dad always told me that if you act like you belong somewhere, no one will ever question you. But I didn’t even have to act today because you made me feel like I belonged there at that fancy château with all those people in suits that cost more than my rent. I was so worried that I’d be putting on an act so that I didn’t look like an idiot and embarrass you, but you were so easy to be around that I realized I wasn’t actin’. It was just me, and it was just you.”

“I liked being just me,” Tony says, smiling at him. Bucky smiles back and lays his hand down on the table, palm up. He takes the open invitation and places his hand in Bucky’s, threading their fingers together. “That’s what a relationship is all about. Being strong enough to be yourself—it’s confident and it’s attractive.”

“I like hearing that,” Bucky replies, squeezing his hand.

“I just want to find someone to spend the rest of my life with that we can do something incredible together,” he says. “What good is having all of this money if it just sits in a bank and gathers dust when I can be giving back tenfold and helping so many people? I don’t want to sit there at the end of my life and still have billions sitting in my bank account. That’s why I put so much effort into SI’s prosthetics program. Prosthetics are so often so terrible—”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Bucky laughs. “I was pleased as hell to find out you guys were expanding that way because I knew I’d be able to find somethin’ that actually fit.”

Tony’s eyes tighten thinking about how much pain Bucky must have been in to have to wear an ill-fitting prosthetic. “It’s a cause that means a lot to me, you know? But I want to do that with someone else. I want to find a cause together and give everything we have towards it.”

“Yeah. I mean, I can’t imagine having that kind of money, but I get what you mean about finding somethin’ to care about and stickin’ to it and doin’ it with someone you love. At the end of the day, love is all we have. It’s the only thing we take with us.”

“I like how you said that.”

Bucky blushes a bit at his frank wording and glances down at the table. “I don’t know what I did or said to impress you enough to pick me to be your first one-on-one, but I really feel like the luckiest guy in the world tonight.”

“And here I am, thinking that I’m lucky to have you here right now,” Tony says with a smile. He looks down at the rose sitting next to his plate that he’s been ignoring since he sat down. Even before they arrived, he was certain that he would be giving Bucky the date rose tonight, but this conversation has just solidified it for him. Bucky did impress him today, not with whether or not he fit into Tony’s world, because now that he’s thought about it more, he feels like that was kind of an unfair expectation to put on him. Instead, he impressed him by being himself, by not being afraid to admit when he didn’t know something, and by making him laugh. Tony has more than enough social standing to make up for any faux pas that his partner might make and to worry about it at all… well, it reminds him of some of the most frustrating people he knows in high society.

“I was really excited for today,” he says, picking up the rose. “But you made it so much better than I could have ever hoped for. I appreciate you being true to yourself, and I hope that I can continue getting to know what makes you you. So… Bucky.”

“Tony,” Bucky intones gravely.

He’s grinning so wide he can barely get the words out. “Will you accept this rose?”

“Hmm,” Bucky says, pretending to think about it. “Does that mean I get to hang out with you more?”

“Of course.”

“Then, yeah, I’ll accept that one, absolutely.”

“Good,” Tony murmurs, moving in for a hug.

“Today was the best one-on-one I could have asked for,” Tony tells the camera once they’re in the air on their way back to Malibu. “I had a blast the entire time. Bucky completely blew me away with his genuineness and his honesty. I felt like I could be free to be myself with him, which is the best feeling in the world. Tonight has given me even more hope for this journey ahead of me and where it’s going.”

Bucky reenters the cabin from the cargo hold and stops to talk to Morita for a minute. Tony waits for him eagerly, feeling like he’s on the edge of his seat. He’s pretty sure that what he’s about to do will be well-received, but who knows? Maybe Bucky likes to take things slowly. Maybe he doesn’t feel ready for this. Maybe he isn’t as sure about Tony as Tony is about him.

He won’t know until he tries.

Bucky finally comes back and sits down across from him. Tony immediately hops up out of his own seat, crosses the short distance between them, and sits down directly in Bucky’s lap, straddling him. To his credit, Bucky manages his surprise well, hands automatically coming up to Tony’s hips to steady him and only the slight widening of his eyes to speak to his surprise at all.

“Hi,” Tony says, curving over him.

“Uh, hi,” Bucky replies.

“You were really amazing today,” Tony breathes, feathering the words across Bucky’s mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” Tony hums, kissing him before Bucky asks another question.

Bucky’s breath audibly catches, caught off guard by the unexpected kiss, but just as Tony is starting to think about pulling away and apologizing, Bucky’s arms fully slide around his back, pulling him in close. His mouth opens under Tony’s, giving way to his tongue, which Tony takes full advantage of. It feels like only seconds before the kiss turns hot and sultry, gasping breaths and grasping hands and Tony feeling like he’s going to die if he doesn’t get Bucky’s shirt off right now, but—

“Fantasy Suites aren’t for another seven weeks, y’all,” someone says dryly.

But they have an audience and Tony has done many things but he hasn’t made a sex tape yet and he’d like to keep it that way. He gentles the kiss, but doesn’t feel ready to climb off of Bucky’s lap just yet. So for now, they kiss and kiss as Tony spins fantasies in his head.

Chapter Text

“Tony is maybe the coolest choice for the bachelorette that they could have gone with,” Peter says, leaning back in his seat while they’re all waiting for the next date card to arrive.

Steve carefully doesn’t make a face because Wong has a camera pointed right at him, but he wants to. Once again, they’re doing nothing but sitting around discussing Tony even though they hardly know him. Even with more time spent around Tony, most of the people who went on the dates with him earlier this week don’t have anything new to add because apparently, despite the show supposedly being about Tony finding love, they spent all their time discussing themselves. Steve’s heart goes out to him, it really does. He knows that Tony has his whole theory about knowing how to game the setup to find real love, but it can’t possibly be real love when no one’s asked him anything about himself.

“He’s—” Peter starts to continue when Indries interrupts, “Yeah, at least all that money is good for something.”

“Wow, that’s very cynical of you,” Sam observes.

She scoffs, tossing her curtain of her back over her shoulder. “You know that they are only taking trips to Napa because Tony is wealthy. If it were any other bachelorette, they would have gone to Cielo Farms five minutes away.”

“Oh, come on,” Peter says, throwing his hands up. “It doesn’t matter whether or not it’s because of his money. A plane landed in my driveway yesterday. How can you complain about that?”

“Because I didn’t get to go on it to spend time with Tony,” Indries snaps back.

“I thought you were just complaining about Tony’s money,” Sam points out reasonably.

“I am interested in Tony despite his family’s money,” she says nastily.

Given that Indries is wearing a Chanel sweater (which Steve only knows because Janet keeps muttering dire things about it) and given what he knows about her last several partners, he would hazard to say that Indries is interested in Tony because of his family’s money but he keeps his mouth shut.

Someone knocks on the front door, effectively ending their conversation.

“Game time,” Clint mutters as Peter gets up to collect the card.

“Alright, alphas,” Peter says, pulling the card out of the envelope. “’Steve. Sam. T’Challa. Clint—’”

“Yes,” Clint hisses, surreptitiously pumping his fist at his side.

“’Wanda,’” Peter keeps reading. “’Loki. Emma. Rumiko. Victor.” He looks up. “Sunset. Let’s get our love on track. Tony.’”

“Who has not been on a date this week or will not be on a date this week?” T’Challa asks, looking around the room.

Indries, pouting, raises her hand. Christine twitches hers by her ear. And Justin dramatically flings his in the air, looking more irritated than he has any right to considering the stunt he pulled last week.

“Feels fantastic,” Justin says sarcastically and stalks out of the room, followed by one of the cameraguys.

Bucky glares after him and mutters, “I really hate that asshole.”

Steve nods emphatically.

With ten people on this date, they have to take three cars—well, three cars full of contestants; they have an entire motorcade for the assistants and cameras following them. Probably because someone is going for drama, Steve is put in the car with Emma and Sunset (he doubts that he’s been able to hide his dislike of Sunset that much, and while he doesn’t think about Emma, she’s made her disdain for anyone in a lower tax bracket than her very obvious). But if Wong is hoping that he’ll get into a fight, then he’ll be mistaken. Steve is a grown man who doesn’t need to use physical violence to resolve his problems, despite his job, and he spends the drive looking out the window, silently contemplating his quote-unquote strategy for this week instead of playing ball with Sunset’s irritated huffing about not getting this week’s one-on-one (his strategy is staying out of the way and letting Tony get a good look at everyone who’s actually there for love, same as it was last week).

He perks up a little more when they pull up outside of the Stark Industries Racing Facilities forty-five minutes outside of Malibu. Steve’s granddad was a huge fan of Formula 1 racing when he was still alive, and he instilled that love in Steve, who originally started watching to spend time with his granddad and now does it because he loves it just as much. Stark Industries recently hired Makkari Ridloff, one of the best drivers in the world, so he’s excited to see how she races for them.

When they get inside, the SI car is racing around the track, low and sleek and gorgeous. Steve whistles lowly at the sight of her, awed. She’s not going as fast as she could be, but Ridloff handles her beautifully.

“It’s nice to see someone else who appreciates F-1 as much as I do,” T’Challa muses, coming to stand next to him. “You Americans are so obsessed with your Nascar.”

“Hey, don’t diss Nascar,” Sam says, joining them. “It’s an American institution.” He cocks his head to the side, watching the car take the next curve like it’s almost drifting. “But I’ll admit, that’s pretty damn sexy.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, abruptly realizing that one of the people standing at the sidelines below them is actually Makkari Ridloff herself. “But who’s driving?”

“Hmm?” T’Challa asks. He follows Steve’s gaze and makes a thoughtful noise. “I see. And where is Tony? Wouldn’t he normally be here to greet us?”

As if in answer, the car pulls to a stop just in front of Ridloff. The driver, dressed in black jeans and a black leather jacket, hops out and pulls the helmet off of his head, shaking his hair out. It’s then that Steve realizes that that’s Tony.

“Hngh,” Clint utters, sounding strangled as he misses two steps, and for the first time since he met Tony, Steve has to agree with Clint’s assessment.

Tony has always been attractive, Steve can admit that, but this is the first time he would dare to agree that Tony is, well, sexy. The helmet-tousled hair is a good look on him, the competence he demonstrated with the car just now would be a turn on for anyone, and the cocky smirk he sports as he approaches Ridloff suits him so well that even Steve, who is very definitely not here for love, feels a little jealous of whichever alpha Tony picks.

Only for a moment, though. Then reality reasserts itself. He’s here as a bodyguard, not to find an omega, and if he’s letting himself get distracted by how pretty Tony is, then he’s not paying attention to what actually matters—keeping him alive.

“You’re right,” Tony is telling Ridloff as the group of alphas pick up the pace down the stairs. “She’s definitely drifting to the left. I’ll take a look at her while you’re in training and see what I can figure out.” He looks up at the alphas and smirks, cocking his hip to the side. “Hey, guys.”

“Tony!” everyone but Steve cheers in some cue that he was probably supposed to pick up and didn’t. Oh well. He doubts the cameras were on him anyway. He does manage to jog down the steps with them instead of getting left behind so at least there’s that. Sam reaches Tony first, leaning over the barricade to hug him so tightly that he physically lifts Tony off the ground.

“That was nice!” Tony says once he’s back on solid ground, grinning at Sam.

“You look incredible,” Sam says.

“Thank you,” Tony says, smile widening. “I know.” He takes in everyone else, gaze lingering on Steve for a second. “Today, I thought it’d be fun to do something that takes us all back to our childhood. Or at least, mine.” He laughs. “The SI F-1 team is a huge part of my life. I do all the maintenance for the team whenever they’re at home, and two years ago, I had the opportunity to take over for Peter Maximoff—” He gestures to the other person standing next to Makkari Ridloff—“during the Monaco Historic Grand Prix back when he was still driving for us.

“I’m looking for an alpha who’s willing to share my interests. They don’t have to love them as much as I do, but if I’m watching football for you, then I’d like it if you’re willing to watch Formula 1 for me. So today, I thought we’d have fun and cut loose with a little race.”

Tony laughs at what must be an alarmed expression on more than a few faces and adds, “I’m not expecting you to get behind the wheel of an F-1 car, but I do expect you to get behind the wheel of these bad boys.” He turns and flourishes at the line of go-karts being pushed out onto the track by a team of mechanics.

Steve’s jaw drops. That sounds amazing. He likes going fast. Back home, he has a motorcycle that he’s maybe added a few after-market modifications to to increase the speed. He likes to take it out on Highway 1 in the middle of the night and see what she can really do. And now he’s getting the opportunity to race around a real practice track in what looks like some professional-grade go-karts.

Alright, he’s with Peter on this one. He’s not interested in him, but Tony is possibly the coolest choice of bachelorette they could have gone with this season.

“I told the alphas that I was looking for someone who would share my interests—or at least not complain when I want to watch Formula 1,” Tony says to the camera as he tinkers with SI’s car. He glances over his shoulder at the track where Makkari and Peter are teaching the alphas how to drive their go-karts. “And that’s true. I’ve dated too many alphas who expect me to care about the things that they care about, whatever that is, but they won’t care about the things that I love in return. So I’m looking for someone who can get over themselves and participate in something that they don’t care about because they love me.

“But that’s not the only thing I’m looking for today. I’m also looking for someone who can have fun with this, for someone who’s maybe a little adventurous, a little dangerous. I drove SI’s car in the Grand Prix two years ago, and it was amazing, and it was fun, and I won, but then I got home and the woman I was dating at the time spent so much time yelling at me over putting myself in danger and how omegas shouldn’t do that that she actually yelled for longer than the race went on. I want someone who’ll see me go out on that track and cheer for me so loudly that I hear them over the engine.”

He looks at the alphas again, the corner of his mouth tipping up. “I chose a bunch of alphas today that I suspect are adrenaline junkies like me, but I also chose a few that I suspect aren’t. Like look at Emma. Her shoes cost more than my entire outfit, let alone that dress, and she keeps touching her go-kart with one finger like she thinks it’ll chip her manicure.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I don’t think she’s going to be into this as much as I am. But you know what I do think? I think she’s competitive. She told me last week that the reason she wanted to talk to me so early was because she wanted to make sure her sister didn’t get to me first. I respect that. So I’m excited to see how she handles this.”

“Anything else you’re hoping for from today?” Coulson asks mildly. Amusement is lurking in his eyes at Tony’s assessment of Emma’s character, though, so Tony winks at him.

“I’m interested to see what Steve is going to do,” he confesses. “Last week, I had to seek him out to talk to him. I thought he wasn’t interested, but it turns out, he just doesn’t know how this works. He knows now, though, so I’m hoping I’ll actually see some interest from him. If not…” He shrugs. “There are other alphas here who actually want to date me. I don’t have any interest in keeping him on just because he intrigued me last week. I can’t make excuses for him.”

“Hello, everybody, and welcome to the first Bachelorette’s Sprint Series!” Nick declares, sitting up in the announcer’s booth with Makkari and Peter. Tony is standing on a platform in the middle of the track, jumping up and down while the crowd chants his name. Steve shakes his head and looks back down at his car—painted red, white, and blue, because the mechanic had taken one look at him and declared him an all-American good boy. Tony sure is a personality, Steve will grant him that.

“I am Nick “the Matchmaker” Fury,” Nick continues. “Here with me today to call the action are Peter Maximoff and Makkari Ridloff, Stark Industries racers both past and present.”

“Now, our alphas today aren’t competing for any kind of cup or trophy,” Peter says.

“That’s right,” Nick agrees. “They’re competing in a series of sprint races for the coveted prize of twenty-five uninterrupted minutes talking to the bachelorette, Tony, as they travel between here and their dinner tonight. The alpha who wins that will definitely be a strong contender for tonight’s rose”

The other alphas break out into excited muttering. Even Emma, who’s been unenthusiastic about the whole thing since she got here, looks much more interested in the proceedings. Steve manages a quick smile and nod for the cameras when Sam asks him if he can believe it. He doesn’t need twenty-five minutes of talking to Tony. Let someone else have it.

Since there’s so many of them and this is only a practice track, they’re divided up into heats for the first round to minimize the risk of crashes and injuries. Steve is sitting out for the first heat, along with Sam, T’Challa, Clint, and Emma. He watches with interest as the others take their places, listening with half an ear as Sam, T’Challa, and Clint chatter about what they’d like to discuss with Tony should they win. He’d like one of those three to win, but Rumiko and Loki don’t seem too bad, he guesses. Rumiko is surprisingly down-to-earth for someone as wealthy as she is, and Loki is, well, a bit of a snob, but pretty obviously besotted with Tony. If he were going to put money on someone from that heat winning, though, it would be Rumiko. She easily outstrips all of the others with the exception of Loki, and even he is still far enough behind her to be counted in seconds. He probably shouldn’t be surprised; she’d spent a pretty good chunk of time talking about her motorcycle during lunch.

When it’s Steve’s turn, he settles into the go-kart with only a bit of discomfort since he’s a pretty big guy, which fades to the back of his mind when the engine roars. He needs to let someone else win, he reminds himself. He doesn’t need the one-on-one time with Tony. He needs to—

He leaps into drive and all thoughts disappear except the kart, the track, and him.

The thing is, back when he was a punk teenager, lashing out at the world for his complicated grief when the asshole he was supposed to call “Dad” died, he did street racing so he’d stop getting into so many unwinnable fights and making his mom sad. He never won anything but he came real close a few times and he never got caught by the cops, which was the real prize. And it doesn’t matter that this is a track, not the city streets. It doesn’t matter that this is a kart, not a car. It’s the same basic principle, and Steve knows what to do with it.

He wins his heat, advancing into the second round with T’Challa and Sam following him against Rumiko, Loki, and Victor. And then he wins that round with Sam and Rumiko trailing. And then he wins again, and now it’s just him and Sam. He’s beating him too—

Except.

He’s coming around that last corner, the finish line in sight. Sam is tailing him a lot closer this time. He really wants that one-on-one time, Steve muses—

The one-on-one time.

The time that Steve doesn’t need.

The time that Sam does.

He puts the brakes on. Not a lot. Not anything noticeable. Nothing that anyone will pick up on and realize that he lost on purpose. Just enough to let Sam shoot by him, taking the lead by milliseconds. Sam soars across the finish line on purpose, and on a professional level, it kind of hurts.

But personally? He’s so pleased for Sam he could burst.

He climbs out of the car, dropping his helmet off in the seat, and heads over to shake Sam’s hand. “Congratulations!” he shouts over the roar of the crowd. “You deserve this!”

“Thanks!” Sam shouts back, clearly stunned by his win. “I thought you had me there for a minute. I mean, you were blowing past all of us the rest of the time.”

“Nah, I thought I was gonna lose control on that last curve there,” he says. “Felt like there was a little shimmy. Was terrified I was gonna spin out and crash into the wall, you know?”

“Yeah, that’d be a hell of a way to end this thing,” Sam agrees. “You’d probably get Tony showing up in your hospital room though, so…” He shrugs in a “take it or leave it” kind of way. Steve snorts and starts heading back towards the locker room to shower and get changed. Four races, each one twenty-five minutes long, he’s definitely gotta be stinking pretty badly at this—

“So.”

He pulls up short when Tony practically appears in front of him. Tony’s eyes are narrowed, suspicious. Does he know what Steve did? No, there’s no way. He can’t. Tony’s an incredible driver, but Steve was subtle. The race was won by a hair. Tony couldn’t possibly know that he’d thrown the race.

“You came pretty close there,” Tony states.

“Yeah,” Steve says, hedging past him. “Sam just… he was the better driver that last race, you know?” Please don’t question him further. Please don’t question him further. Please don’t—

“Yeah,” Tony echoes. “I guess so.”

“Right,” Steve says. He jerks his thumb at the showers. “I should go… I’ll see you at dinner.”

“See you.”

He’s certain he can still feel Tony’s eyes on him all the way to the locker room door, though he refuses to turn around and look.

“Come on,” Tony demands as soon as Steve is gone. He stalks towards the garage, not waiting to see if the cameraguy is following him. “I want to do a confessional. Right now.”

“Confess—” the operator splutters. “What about Sam?”

“I don’t care,” he snaps. He’ll talk to Sam in the car. “I have things to say.”

He plops himself down on the stool, rolling a few inches before he stops himself with his foot. Pursing his lips, he taps his fingers on the side of the table in front of him. His mind is racing, trying to figure out what just happened. Does Steve think that he’s stupid? Does he think that Tony doesn’t know anything about racing—even after the display he put on this morning?

“I don’t get him,” he says abruptly.

“…Who?” the cameraguy says hesitantly.

“Steve, obviously,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “I don’t—he could have won that. He should have won that. But he let Sam win. He deliberately let Sam win. Why? What the fuck? Was he trying to be nice or something? Does he know that I don’t give prizes for being nice? The prize was spending more time with me. Doesn’t he want to spend time with me? That’s the entire point of this show. Why would he deliberately give that up?” He rests his chin on his hand. “Does he not want to be here? No one’s making him. He can go home at any point.”

“I don’t think—”

“Is he here to launch his social media career? Because he’s doing a terrible job of it if that’s the case. I mean, is he trying to sell tequila or something? Why is he here if he doesn’t want to be?”

“…I’m sure he wants to be here,” the cameraguy says eventually. “He probably just… got nervous. Or something.”

Tony huffs. Yeah, right. Steve practically ran from him to get back to the locker rooms. That’s not nerves. That’s doesn’t want to be in his presence at all. Well, fine. Tony can accommodate him.

Unless Steve does something absolutely spectacular tonight, Tony will be more than happy to accommodate him.

“I missed seeing you after the race,” Sam tells him while they’re in the car on their way to Mélisse.

“Yeah, they pulled me aside for a quick confessional that ended up being not so quick,” Tony lies. Now that it’s been a while and he’s not as angry about Steve deliberately throwing the race and giving up time with him, he feels bad about abandoning Sam. Sam didn’t deserve him ignoring him like that. But he doesn’t want him to know what went down. It’s embarrassing for one thing. Steve is supposed to be here for him but he doesn’t even want to spend time with him? Yeah, that’s about as embarrassing as it gets. “How are you feeling after your win?”

“I am… pretty jazzed, not gonna lie,” Sam says. “There was a moment there where I was really afraid I wasn’t going to get it, but Steve said he thought he was gonna lose control, and I took advantage and I won.”

Tony doesn’t really want to talk about Steve anymore so he says, “’Pretty jazzed.’ There’s a pretty Southern phrase if I ever heard one.”

“Yeah, well, I’m from the South. Gotta take some things with me.”

“I thought you were from D.C.”

“Oh, I am—now. But I was born and raised in Louisiana. Parents owned a shrimping boat and all.”

“Oh wow,” he says, laughing. “An actual shrimping boat? What was that like?”

“Smelly,” Sam says immediately. “It was a pretty poor town too. I was glad to be out of there when I joined up.”

“That’s right,” Tony recalls. “You’re ex-Air Force, yeah? My friend, Rhodey, he’s Air Force too.”

“Your friend’s got good taste.” Sam laughs. “My friend, Riley, and I joined up together. We were pararescuemen for a few years.”

“So what does Riley do now? You said you’re a therapist, right?”

Sam stills, the smile slipping off of his face. He fiddles with his hands in his lap for a minute. Tony waits, feeling like he’s misstepped but waiting to see what Sam will tell him. Eventually, Sam says, “He, uh, he doesn’t do anything. He got shot on our last mission. We were ambushed. He distracted them so the rest of us could get out of there.”

“Oh,” Tony says softly. “Sam, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine.”

But he can tell that it’s not. Of course it isn’t. He thinks about if Rhodey had been shot down when he was deployed, back before Tony pulled strings to get him stationed permanently in California as SI’s liaison. He doesn’t know what he would have done. Lost his mind, probably. Rhodey has been his rock since he was an itty bitty fourteen year old, terrified out of his wits in the MIT dorms.

“Riley’s the reason I went back to school and became a therapist actually,” Sam says after another minute. “The VA’s grief counselors weren’t worth a fraction of what I was paying them, and I just thought that someone’s got to do better. After everything the military puts us through while we’re over there, we deserve better than someone telling us we’re Bonafide heroes for coming home when other people didn’t.”

“Right,” Tony murmurs. He reaches across the seat to place his hand on top of Sam’s knee, not sure what to say to make this better. It’s clear that Sam still deeply misses Riley, and when he thinks about how long he’d miss Rhodey if they were in the same position, he completely understands. “Not that my words mean anything, but for what it’s worth, I’m really glad you’re here.”

Sam smiles softly at him and says, “I’m glad to be here.”

When they get to the restaurant, they have to separate to get ready for the evening portion, but not before Sam gives him one of the softest, sweetest kisses he’s ever had. Tony really likes Sam, he muses as he changes into his midnight blue overcoat. It’s too early to tell yet if he believes he could see the rest of his life with him, but Sam is definitely a contender.

“It was so fun watching you today,” he tells everyone once they’re all seated on the couches in the backroom of the restaurant. “I’m pretty sure most of you have never driven a go-kart before in your life, but I really appreciated the enthusiasm and effort that you put into this.” Sure, he’d had to add an incentive to get some of them to put in the effort, but at least they’re interested in him enough to do it. “You played hard, and believe me, it did not go unnoticed. So—” He looks around the couches and decides on—“Loki, you wanna go with me?”

He could have gone with Steve, and maybe he should have so he could get to the bottom of that whole mess over the race. But he wants to see what Steve will do. If Steve approaches him tonight, then maybe the cameraguy was right and he’s just shy. If he doesn’t… then Tony supposes he knows who he’s sending home at the rose ceremony.

The room is a little too small to really have effective private conversations, but someone has put up privacy screens, so they make it work. Tony settles back into his seat, waiting for Loki to do the same before he asks, “So how are you doing tonight?”

“I’m doing well now that I’ve gotten to see you again,” Loki replies. “I very much appreciated you being there for us today, cheering us on. I believe that it made me a better racer.” He smiles ruefully. “Though I didn’t get further than the second race. But seeing how passionate you were today, how much you cared about all of us, it swept all of my nerves away. All that’s left are butterflies.”

Tony ducks his head, blushing. Loki is a smooth talker, he’ll grant him that, but there’s such an undercurrent of sincerity there, unmistakable and certain. Loki really does mean it that having Tony there helped him.

“You make me so nervous every time I talk to you,” Loki continues. “I know that I am quieter than the others and that you’ve asked for someone who would be bold for you. I would love to be that alpha for you, but I’m afraid that’s not who I am. I don’t want you to think lesser of me when I can only be who I am.”

“There’s boldness in admitting that you’re nervous,” Tony says, shifting closer to him. “And that’s only one part of what I’m looking for. More than anything, I’m looking for what I said the very first night I was: I’m looking for someone who’ll be real and honest with me. And tonight, telling me what you just did, that’s exactly what I’m looking for.”

The night feels like it flies by. Tony talks to Emma, to Clint, to Wanda, the topics flying as they discuss fashion and Clint’s kids and Wanda immigrating to the states when she was a teenager and football and the race today and a million other things besides. Before he knows it, he’s sitting down with T’Challa.

“You drove really well today,” Tony comments.

“Thank you,” T’Challa says. “Wakanda does not have many cars, we believe in—I believe you call it ‘walkable cities’—but I have had the opportunity to drive while on business trips with my father and found that I enjoyed it. However, I am more interested in talking about you tonight.”

Tony’s eyebrow raises. “Me?” he checks. That’s not how this usually goes. The early weeks are for getting to know the contestants, not the bachelorette. His time will come later, once he’s narrowed the playing field a bit.

“Yes,” T’Challa replies evenly. “It was truly something watching you handle that car when we came in. You clearly knew her well, enough to trust that she wouldn’t hurt you even while she wasn’t at her best. And when you got out of the car—you were beautiful. It’s clear that driving like this suits you. So yes, I will treasure that memory for a very long time.”

“Thanks,” Tony says, touched by the consideration for him. “My dad—he offered to let me tinker with him on this old Roadster when I was four. We must have built and rebuilt that thing, god, half a dozen times over the years? When I was sixteen, just after I got my license, he gave it to me for good. It was his favorite of his cars, but he said he loved me more. And then, when I was eighteen, he bought the Formula 1 team and told me that they were mine to take care of. That’s exactly the words he used too—mine to take care of. Not maintain or own. We never looked at cars like that. And I thought, well, if I’m taking care of them, then I better make sure I know how to drive them.” He spreads his hands, shrugging a little. “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” T’Challa agrees, touching Tony’s wrist.

“You surprised me today, Rumi,” Tony tells her when she sits down across from him.

“How so?”

“Well, and this might be on me for making an assumption, but I would not have expected the woman currently wearing Balenciaga to drive like that,” he admits readily. Call him sexist if they must, but her dress costs more than his yearly mortgage, which is saying something, and in his circles, the kind of woman who’d wear a dress like that wouldn’t even show up to cheer for a go-karting race, let alone drive one.

She laughs. “I’m only wearing this for the cameras,” she confides. “Truthfully, I’m much more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt. And as for my driving, well, it might have more wheels than my motorcycle, but it didn’t feel all that different from driving it.”

Tony straightens, interested in her confession. “You have a bike?” he asks curiously. He’s never bought one. His mom had been terrified he’d get himself killed driving one so he’d never bought one when he was living at home. Now that he’s on his own, he just has to look at the statistics for Highway 1 to know he doesn’t need to tempt fate that much.

“Sure do,” she says. She winks. “I’ll bring her over to the states once this is all over. Take you out for a ride, see how you like her.”

“That sounds absolutely amazing,” he agrees. “I’d love to do that.”

“Tony?” Coulson interrupts. They both look up at him to see him checking his watch. “Time to wrap it up.”

“It… is?” Tony asks, spirits sinking. If it’s time to give out the rose and say his goodbyes, then they’ve been here for hours—and Steve never came to see him once. He didn’t even try to talk to him. He just sat there on that couch and talked to Sam and Clint.

“Right,” he says, getting up. “Okay. Rumi, we’ll have to pick this up again at the cocktail party.”

“Absolutely,” she says, heading back towards the other alphas while Tony goes with Coulson to do one more confessional before he hands out the rose.

He barely even pays attention to what he says, too distracted by Steve’s failure to come talk to him. He just doesn’t understand. If Steve didn’t want to be on his season, he could have quit. He can still quit. No one is actually making him be here. And truthfully, it’s frustrating that he took a spot away from someone who might have actually been interested in him. It’s just… Tony doesn’t get him and he doesn’t like that.

When he gets back, he carefully doesn’t look at Steve as he says, “Unfortunately, we ran out of time, so I didn’t get to talk to everyone tonight, and I’m very sorry about that. But to those of you that I did get to talk to, I just want to say thank you for opening your heart to me and letting me open mine to you.” He picks up the rose, running a single finger over the silky petals.

“I want to give this rose to…” He looks at each alpha who particularly impressed him tonight—Sam and T’Challa and Loki and Rumi—finally landing on Sam. “To Sam because I asked for someone who could have fun and take risks, and that’s exactly what you did today. You really impressed me when we talked tonight—both times—and I can’t wait to get to know you better. So, Sam.” He stands up, Sam standing with him. “Will you accept this rose?”

“Absolutely,” Sam says, pulling him in for a hug and another kiss as soon as Tony is done pinning the rose on his lapel.

“I hope you had fun today,” he says while they start packing things up. “I definitely did. But, I’m also really tired—” There are a few agreeing nods—“And we have a very big night tomorrow, so I’m going to say goodnight to all of you. Rest up; I’ll see you soon.”

He can’t hide that the smile falls from his face as he walks out to the car, and he’s sure that one of the camera catches it. But he can’t help himself. If someone had asked him before this date who he thought he would send home, he would have said Clint without hesitation. As much as Tony likes being around him and spending time with him, Clint is a father and Tony knows with complete certainty that he isn’t ready to become a parent. He feels that more strongly every time they talk. It’s not fair to Clint to keep him on any longer knowing that there’s no future there, and it’s not fair to himself to send someone home that he might have been able to form a connection with just to keep Clint on another week.

But when he thinks about Steve slowing down so that he wouldn’t have to win the race. When he thinks about him running away from him to get to the locker rooms. When he thinks about Steve not even attempting to talk to him tonight. When he thinks about who he’s going to send home now?

Suddenly, he isn’t sure.

Chapter Text

“Who are you thinking about sending home tonight?” Angie, Tony’s makeup artist, asks him as she’s dusting sparkly silver powder over his eyelids.

He frowns, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He looks as good as he always does. Randi had picked out an all-black ensemble for him tonight: a glittery wraparound leotard with a bare midriff and halter top underneath transparent harem pants, paired together with a pair of fleece slip-ons that he’s considering stealing once filming is over. He looks good; he knows he does. And yet, he feels uncomfortable in his own skin, unsure of himself and his decisions. Tony had been so confident going into this that he could make the system work for him, that he knew what to do to avoid the heartbreak that almost every other bachelorette has experienced at the end of this… but it’s only the second week and he’s already questioning his decisions.

“I don’t know,” he admits finally.

“You don’t know?” Angie repeats playfully. “That’s sure a change from when I saw you yesterday. What happened?”

It feels self-centered to admit that one single suitor not wanting to spend time with him has made him question who he wants to send home, but she asked, and truthfully, he doesn’t feel like she’ll judge him for it.

“I thought, out of the people who went on the date yesterday, that I was going to send Clint home,” he says. “Because I don’t want to be a parent, and it’s so obvious that Clint is looking for someone who’ll love his kids as much as he does—which is exactly how it should be when you’re a parent. But that’s not something that I’m ready for right now. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for it. That’s exactly why I sent May home last week. And keeping Clint here because I think he’s fun to be around and I like him when I know that there’s not a future for us just feels, I don’t know, disingenuous.”

He looks down at his slip-ons and wiggles his toes in them, watching the fabric move. “But then Steve came along—and I had such high hopes for him! He was the first alpha I met on Night One. And he seemed really nice, and he defended me against Whitney when I wasn’t even there. But then he’s made no effort to talk to me, and I thought it was just that he didn’t know how this worked or that he was shy or something, but it’s hard to ignore that he deliberately lost a race that would’ve given him time to talk to me privately. So, I don’t know. I don’t want to keep someone on who doesn’t want to be here either.”

“And you’re really dead set on eliminating one person from each group this week?” Angie asks.

“Yes,” he says firmly. There are people on the first group date that he already knows he doesn’t see a future with, and he doesn’t want to keep them here just because his mind changed on a whim.

“Alright,” she says easily. “Then, you want a trash can or a tool box?”

“A… what?”

“Do you want someone to vent to or advice?” she rephrases.

He thinks about it. “Advice.”

“Send Clint home,” she says promptly. “You know that you don’t see a future with him. You think that you don’t see one with Steve. And I just know that you’ll be kicking yourself if you watch the season when it comes out and find out that Steve panicked and he’s just been shy all along. Some alphas are like that. But you won’t know until you give him a chance.”

“Yeah,” he says drearily. “Maybe.” If Steve could ever bother to let Tony give him a chance.

He’s still feeling fragile when he gets to the mansion. He spent the entire drive thinking about it, thinking about what he was going to do at the rose ceremony tonight, and he doesn’t feel like he has any more clarity than he had when he was talking to Angie. He just… he so wants Steve to impress him tonight. Or for an angel to come down from the heavens and tell him that he’s ready to be a parent so he can feel confident keeping Clint on. Or—fuck, he doesn’t even know. Just something that’ll make him feel better about making this decision.

The alphas are talking about how weird it’ll feel saying goodbye to people now that they know each other when he arrives, but they fall silent when he walks into the room, climbing to their feet in waves of black and grey and blue suits and pink and yellow and red gowns.

“Hi,” he says shakily, wondering if it’s as obvious to them that he feels so unsure about tonight.

“Hey,” a few of the alphas say. Jan comments, “Love the outfit.”

“Thanks,” he says, smiling at her.

Peter steps forward to give him his glass of champagne. “This is for you.”

“Thank you,” he says, taking it. He kind of wants to take a fortifying sip now but that would just look awkward. In the back of the room, Justin shifts so that Tony can see him better. “Um, so I’ve been asking from all of you to be real with me and honest and messy. And now I want to be real with you. This week has been absolutely amazing. So many of you have gone above and beyond to prove to me that this could work, that we could work. You’ve made me feel deserving and fought-for and completely special. I really appreciate that. And because of that, I’m scared for tonight. Making decisions can be hard. I don’t know who’s going home tonight. I know three people who won’t be—” He nods at Peter, Bucky, and Sam—“but that’s it. If you have any doubt in your mind as to whether or not you’re someone who’s going home, then please, I beg you to step up tonight. Prove to me that this is a relationship that can last, because I want to believe that any one of you could be the one.” He carefully doesn’t look at Steve or Clint as he raises his glass. “Cheers to an amazing night ahead to have real, messy moments together. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” everyone returns, lifting their glasses.

“Someone give him a hug,” Sam says.

A few people start to move towards him, but Clint gets there first, wrapping his arm around Tony’s shoulders and asking, “Can I steal you for a second?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tony says easily. That’s the entire point of this cocktail party, after all, even if Steve still hasn’t seemed to have gotten it.

They find a secluded nook outside and sink down onto the cushioned benches. Tony has to rearrange his pants a bit so that the filmy fabric doesn’t catch on the rough stone. Clint watches him quietly, waiting for him to get settled before opening his mouth.

“I get the feeling,” Clint begins slowly like he’s thinking through each word before he says it, “that I’m someone that you’re conflicted about tonight.”

“Clint—” Tony starts to deny only to stop when Clint levels him with a look. It’s not as effective as his mom’s glare, but it’s in moments like these that he definitely can’t forget that Clint is a parent, first and foremost. “Alright, yeah,” he concedes. “I am.”

“I wondered,” he says. “After you sent May home last week.”

“I just… you are an amazing guy,” Tony says honestly. “I really like you. I think I laugh more with you than I do with almost anyone else. But I didn’t come here ready to become a parent as soon as someone proposes. I like kids just fine, but I don’t know if that’s the path I want my life to take.”

“Meanwhile, I want someone who knows with one hundred-percent certainty that they’re ready to take on me and my kids,” Clint says quietly.

“And you deserve that!” Tony says desperately. “It makes complete sense that your kids come first. They should! In everything that you do. But you can see where I’m conflicted, right?”

Clint chuckles, nodding his head. “No one goes on a show like The Bachelorette if they’re not hoping to be the center of someone’s world.”

“Wow, thank you for making me sound incredibly self-centered.”

“Not self-centered,” Clint says, putting his hand on Tony’s thigh. “Like no one’s ever put you first before.”

Tony gives him a sad smile. “You can’t say things like that,” he whispers. “Because you say that and it makes me wonder if maybe I’m not one hundred-percent certain that I’m not ready to be a parent. Maybe I could be one if it meant I could be with you. But I don’t know. I don’t—”

Clint leans forward and brushes his thumbs under Tony’s eyes, wiping away tears that he hadn’t even known were falling. Tony gives him another helpless smile, feeling only more confused than ever.

“I want you,” Clint says, “to have clarity. Whether you send me home tonight or keep me here, I want you to know that you’re making the right decision for you. I just don’t know what’ll help you with that, if it would help to tell you what my daily life is like as a divorced dad or—”

“Yes,” Tony seizes upon that. “That. I want to know what it’s like for you.”

“Alright,” he replies easily. “Well, I—”

“Excuse me.”

Tony is so surprised, so upset at the interruption that he doesn’t even realize it’s happening at first. It takes Clint stopping and looking up at the interloper for him to realize that no, this is actually going to happen. Right when he needed to talk to Clint the most, someone is coming in and putting a stop to it before it’s even really begun. Slowly, he looks away from Clint and up at the person who’s interrupted them.

Indries smiles at them, two glasses of champagne in her hand. “Tony, I was wondering if I could steal you away.”

“I—” He gapes at her and gestures between himself and Clint. “We’re kind of in the middle of something.”

“It will only take a moment,” she assures him.

He blinks at her. Looks at Clint. Back at her. Says, “Indries, we’re—”

“I did not get to go on a date with you this week,” she says sharply. “Clint had his turn then to say whatever it was. I deserve this time.”

That gets his blood boiling. He didn’t invite Indries on a date for a reason. She rubs him the wrong way, sends shivers up his spine and not in the good way. She acts entitled when they talk, like she’s already won this despite talking to him only twice. But even if he hadn’t invited her for no reason other than there being too many alphas and not enough date spots, he’d clearly invited Clint because he did like him. Clint deserves this time too.

“I think,” he starts to retort when Clint lays a hand on his arm. He looks down at it, then back up at Clint, furrowing his brows questioningly.

“Go talk to her,” Clint says. “We can talk once you’re done.”

Tony doesn’t want to talk to her, but he’s stuck at this point with her waiting and Clint urging him to go. So he follows her and tries not to take it as a sign that Clint didn’t read in his face what he actually wanted.

“There, that’s better,” she says once they’ve sat down, obviously satisfied with herself. “Here, take this.”

“I don’t want it,” he says, barely glancing at the champagne.

“Oh, come now, you wouldn’t make a girl drink alone, would you?” She pouts at him, all big eyes and pursed lips.

“I would,” he retorts. “Clint and I were talking. You just had to wait five minutes for me to be done.” If this is aired, he’ll probably get a bad edit, but he can’t bring himself to care. His conversation with Clint was more important than whatever nonsense Indries has to say.

Her eyes narrow as she pulls the glass back. “Right,” she says coldly. “I forgot. You can’t possibly be bothered to see that we all get equal time to talk to you.”

Given that Tony had insisted on three nights for the first cocktail party so that everyone could have an equal amount of time with him, he thinks that’s rich. But that’s not something he can admit out loud since the cocktail party is supposed to be pared down to an edit of one night instead of three.

He stands up, deciding that he’s done with this conversation and he’d rather talk to Clint. “Thank you,” he tells her, “for making my decision easier tonight.”

The night doesn’t get any better from there. Tony is able to finish his conversation with Clint, but it doesn’t leave him feeling any more certain of his decision. And then there’s everything else. It feels like every other conversation he has gets interrupted by someone else. He barely gets to talk to anyone before someone comes along just wanting to borrow him for a quick second. He’s frustrated and tired and it isn’t exactly fun only getting through two minutes talking to someone before he gets pulled away by someone else. He doesn’t feel like he learns anything about anyone, and he certainly doesn’t feel like anyone learns anything about him.

When he compares it to last week and feeling like he knew exactly what he was going to do because he’d had the time to really think it through, it makes him want to tear his hair out and scream. He deserves better than this—and he can’t even blame network shenanigans because this is all on the alphas. They’re the ones interrupting him and never giving him a second to breathe.

The worst part about it though is that once again, Steve doesn’t try to talk to him. He skulks around the edges of the rooms he’s in, occasionally making light conversation with the other alphas but never once approaching Tony. It’s such a change from the alpha Tony met that first night, and he just doesn’t get what he did wrong to cause such a change. They’ve barely even talked! How could Steve have possibly gone so quickly from being interested in him to literally running away from him?

“I need a moment,” he tells Coulson once he’s been dragged upstairs for a quick session with the camera before he does the rose ceremony. “Just… five minutes to be alone with my thoughts before I go back downstairs.”

“We don’t really… have five minutes,” Coulson says awkwardly, looking very apologetic.

“Please,” Tony begs him. “I just…” He trails off, already knowing that he won’t get the time he’s asking for. That’s the nature of the show. It’s a whirlwind in every way, from the romance to filming. Time to stop and breathe and really reflect on what he’s going to do isn’t what they do here, no matter how much he needs that reflection.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He’s scared and unsure of the decision he has to make, and he doesn’t want to send the wrong person home, and—

He doesn’t know what to do.

Chapter Text

“Before we get started,” Tony says once he’s done with his confessional and back downstairs for the rose ceremony, “I just wanted to say thanks. I came in emotional, and you could have let that ruin your night, but you didn’t. You were there for me, making tonight even better than I could have hoped for, which has made my decision… impossible.” He shakes his head. He still doesn’t feel like he has clarity on this situation at all, terrified to send the wrong person home tonight. But clarity or not, he has to make a decision.

The problem is—he hasn’t made it yet.

Instead of starting the rose ceremony, he continues, “This whole experience has already been so great.” It’s had its hiccups for sure: Indries interrupting his conversation with Clint, Steve running away from him, and just… everything about Whitney last week. But overall, it’s been absolutely incredible. “You’ve made me feel so special, and I’m looking forward to what the next eight weeks have in store for us.” He looks down at the roses next to him. “This is hard already, which I wasn’t really expecting when we began this journey last week. I’ve gotten to know all of you so much already, I feel like I’ve made some amazing connections, and I don’t want to send anyone home. Thank you, again, for exposing your hearts to me this past week, and please know that I’m just trying to follow mine.”

Well, he’s stalled long enough. Any more and they’re going to start wondering if he has no idea who to eliminate—which, to be fair to anyone making that assumption, he doesn’t. But he doesn’t want anyone to know that.

Tony picks up the first rose and takes a deep breath, telling himself to just listen to what his heart tells him about who to keep tonight. T’Challa, his heart tells him, so he smiles and says, “T’Challa.”

A small smile crosses T’Challa’s own face as he steps down from the second row, between Natasha and Janet.

“T’Challa, will you accept this rose?” Tony asks once he’s closer.

“Always, Tony,” T’Challa swears, holding still for Tony to pin the rose on his lapel.

Tony lets him step back into the lineup, looking much more relieved now that he has a rose, and glances over everyone else, finally landing on the next person he wants to give a rose.

“Pepper,” he says.

As gracefully as she does everything, Pepper walks forward and tells him, “Of course,” when he asks her if she’ll accept his rose.

“Bruce,” he calls forward next. Perhaps Bruce hadn’t put in the best showing at the pageant but during the dinner portion, he’d very much impressed him, both with his toast and during their conversation later. There’s a part of him that wonders sometimes if he has an intellectual crush on Bruce rather than a deeper connection, but either way, Tony’s not ready to send him home by any means.

“Will you accept this rose?” he asks.

“Yes,” Bruce says, smiling at him.

“Rumiko,” Tony says next. He’d liked her drive at the race and he’d enjoyed talking to her during dinner and at the cocktail party. “Will you accept this rose?”

“Absolutely, Tony, yes,” she says.

Tony twirls the next rose in his fingers for a moment, looking over the remaining alphas. From Victor’s intense stare to Thor’s calm demeanor to Ty’s puppy dog eyes. Especially Ty’s puppy dog eyes, if he’s being honest. Tony won’t lie to himself; given some distance from Ty, he’d had the chance to really think over what he’d done at the pageant, and he’s come to realize that he’s more uncomfortable than he’d originally thought with what Ty had said. There’d been the fact that Ty hadn’t put in the same effort with the talent portion as the others had, which Tony is slightly ashamed of himself now for rewarding him for that by crowning him the winner. He blames it on being so overwhelmed by what Ty had said—and, of course, that’s the crux of the whole thing.

Can Ty possibly know that he’s in love with him after less than a week of knowing him again?

Tony wants to say yes. He desperately wants to believe that Ty is serious and genuine and not just trying to win a competition. But he also can’t deny that if any one of the other alphas had pulled the same stunt, he wouldn’t hesitate to question their genuineness.

But it’s Ty. His childhood best friend. The boy he’d cried over for weeks after he moved back to England. And because it’s him, Tony can’t just let him go. He has to see this all the way through for them, for the boy he used to be.

“Ty,” he says.

Ty’s puppy dog eyes melt into a relieved, warm smile as he walks forward. “Hi,” he murmurs once he’s close enough that the others won’t hear him.

“Hi,” Tony replies softly.

“Thanks for thinking of me. I’ve been thinking of you all week.”

Tony blushes and asks, to cover up how flustered he is, “Ty, will you accept this rose?”

“Every time you ask,” Ty says, standing proudly while Tony pins the rose to his suit jacket.

“Loki,” he calls forward next. “Will you accept this rose?”

“Of course I will,” Loki tells him, green eyes twinkling under the lights. The stem of the rose is almost as green as his eyes, and Tony can feel himself getting lost in them.

The next person his heart tells him to call for is Natasha. “Will you accept this rose?” he asks her, blushing when she smirks at him. There’s just something about her that makes him feel like a teenage omega with his first crush all over again.

“Yes,” she replies.

“Christine,” he asks for next, surprising himself. He hadn’t asked her on a date this week, fairly certain that he’d be sending her home this very week. There’s just something about the way she looks like she’s taking mental notes on everything that makes him very nervous. But he’d actually had a good conversation with her earlier that night, where she’d brought up how hard it can be to date as an investigative journalist, even when the people she’s dating aren’t the kinds of people she would profile. What can he say? It had pulled at his heartstrings.

“Will you accept this rose?” he asks.

“Of course,” she says.

“Wanda, will you accept this rose?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thor, will you accept this rose?”

“Always.”

“Janet, will you accept this rose?”

“A thousand times, yes.”

“Victor, will you accept this rose?”

“I will.”

“Emma, will you accept this rose?”

“Every time, Tony.”

“Sunset, will you accept this rose?”

“Yes, I will.”

He hesitates over the next one. When he’d started this week, he’d had every intention of doing one elimination from each date and one from the people who hadn’t been on a date. And he still plans on doing that, but when he’d started this week, he’d been certain that he was going to send this particular alpha home, only for them to be supplanted by someone else. It has him rethinking his strategy for next week; maybe it would be better to just send the people home that he wants to instead of limiting himself to one from each category. There are alphas that he’s going to send home this week that he definitely wouldn’t have if he hadn’t put that limit on himself.

“Justin,” he says eventually. “Will you accept this rose?”

“Of course I will!” Justin says jovially, though he can’t help hissing as Tony is pinning the rose on him, “Took your sweet time asking, didn’t you?”

Tony keeps his expression neutral and lets Justin step back into the lineup, resolving to send him home next week.

Nick comes out to join them, looking more nervous than Tony would have expected for a typical rose ceremony. It’s subtle—Tony is probably the only person there who would have picked up on it, and only because he’s known Nick for so long—but it’s definitely there. He gives him a questioning look, but Nick doesn’t respond, instead taking his place at Tony’s side and facing the alphas.

“Tony,” Nick says, “alphas. This is the final rose tonight. When you’re ready.”

Tony nods. It’s the moment of truth. He has four alphas left: Steve, Clint, Indries, and Carol. And… he has no idea who he’s going to keep here. He just—his heart feels torn. He knows for certain that Indries is going home. Her actions at the party guaranteed that. And he thinks that Carol is going home too. He just doesn’t see how they can fit into each other’s worlds.

But when he thinks about Clint and Steve? He has no idea. On the one hand, there’s Clint, who Tony really likes and could see a future with—but only if he didn’t have kids. And on the other hand, there’s Steve, who ran away from him and actively made an effort not to have to spend one-on-one time with him—but also defended him when he had no reason to and couldn’t have possibly known that he would see it.

It would be so much easier if Steve had impressed him tonight or at all this past week. If Tony had had a connection with him the way that he does with Clint, Tony’s decision would have been made right then and there. But he just can’t get there with Steve. At this point, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see a connection with Steve.

But Clint’s kids…

Finally, he opens his mouth, still not certain of which name is going to come out, and says, “Steve.”

It’s only then that he realizes how nervous Steve had become while Tony had deliberated. The expression on Steve’s face is fearful, worried that he wouldn’t receive the last rose tonight. And once again, Tony just doesn’t get him. He wouldn’t be the last person receiving a rose tonight if he’d just put the effort into talking to him this week! What right does he have to be worried that Tony would send him home?

He feels overwrought and emotional. Tears prick the corners of his eyes, even as Steve is walking forward because he knows that he’s sending a good alpha home tonight and he has no idea if he’s made the right choice or lost the person who could have been the love of his life.

“Will you accept this rose?” he asks, voice coming out thick.

“Yes,” Steve says quietly as though he’s just now realizing how his actions made him look this week and that Tony only barely wants to see him right now.

Nick returns, looking at the alphas while Tony bows his head and tries to hide his confused tears. “Alphas, I’m sorry. You did not receive a rose. Take a moment to say your goodbyes.”

Tony waits while the three eliminated alphas say goodbye to the others. Indries approaches him first, saying only, “Thank you, Tony.”

“Thank you,” he replies in return. If he tries to say anything else, he’s going to get nasty about her attitude tonight and lack of respect for his time with other people.

“Follow your heart,” Carol tells him when she hugs him.

“Always,” he promises her. It might not have worked out for them but he just knows that there’s a perfect omega out there for her somewhere. It just wasn’t him tonight.

Clint is the last one to step forward to give him a hug, and he smiles sadly at the tears in Tony’s eyes.

“Not me, huh?” he asks gently.

“I’m so sorry,” Tony says into his shoulder, tears falling onto Clint’s jacket.

“Do you at least feel that you have clarity?”

“I… have no idea,” he admits. Clint just nods, though, and doesn’t try to challenge him over his decision for the last rose. He gives Tony another hug, kisses his cheek, and leaves, with Tony feeling more confused than ever.

It’s Sam who moves forward to give him a hug first, followed quickly by Thor and then Peter. Tony gives all three of them a watery smile and then accepts the handkerchief Loki offers him to wipe his eyes. Fortunately, Angie’s talents are more than strong enough to face off against his emotions, and there’s no trace of makeup when he pulls the handkerchief away.

“A toast!” Justin exults once the champagne has been passed out, apparently over the indignity of getting the second-to-last rose. “To my future best friend, Mr. Tony Hammer!”

It takes Tony a moment to figure out what name he’s talking about and then a moment more to get over the audacity, during which time Janet has declared that they’re not doing that, actually.

Into the middle of that chaos, Bruce says decisively, “To being truthful in our boldness. To being ourselves and not trying to be someone we’re not for the sake of a rose. And to continuing to choose each other every day.”

Now that is something that Tony is willing to toast to. He raises his glass with everyone else and says, “Cheers!”

And when he turns away to head back to his hotel, if he wipes away another stray tear, well, who’s to see him do it?

Chapter Text

The rose ceremony went well in Steve’s opinion—for the most part. He was the last person to receive a rose, which means that his plan has to be working. Tony doesn’t see him as a real, credible choice for a relationship. That’s exactly where Steve wants to be: able to do his job and not have to worry about how his client is feeling on top of it.

He can’t deny, though, that there’d been a sliver of anxiety piercing him as the ceremony dragged on and his name hadn’t been called. He’s guaranteed a spot on the show no matter what happens, but for a moment there, when Tony had hesitated at the end, there’d been a very real question of what would happen if Tony did try to send him home. Maybe he’ll swing by the guardhouse in the morning and find out if Sharon can tell him what happens when production steps in to keep a contestant on when the star wants to send them home.

Tony leaves before the rest of them, clearly still emotional. The others trickle out after that, a few of them stopping by Clint and Carol’s exit interviews to say a more private goodbye (no one stops by Indries’s, Steve notices, not even Emma or Sunset, who’d been closest to her). Steve receives a few murmured congratulations for receiving the last rose from a few of the alphas he gets along with and even more puzzled looks from some of the others, but he doesn’t worry about it. It’s been a long night and he’s more than ready for bed.

But as he’s climbing the stairs, Wong pokes his head out of the confessional room and asks, “Steve? Can we get you in here for a second?”

Steve is tired of doing confessionals, tired of lying about how worried he is that he hasn’t talked to Tony or how disappointed he was to lose the go-kart race, but he prides himself on doing a good job, so he swallows back a sigh and heads on over—

Only to be immediately confronted with an irate Pierce.

“What the hell was that?” Pierce demands.

“What was… what?” Steve asks slowly, genuinely bewildered by what Pierce could be mad about. Tony is still alive; other than Ty, Steve isn’t overly worried about any of the contestants (Sunset and Bruce both have a bit of a temper but neither of them read to him as the type to get violent); and Steve’s team is doing exactly what they’re supposed to. In his opinion, everything is proceeding exactly as it should be.

“That pitiful excuse you call a showing this week!” Pierce snarls, pacing back and forth in front of the camera. There’s a blinking red light that indicates it’s recording, and Wong looks like he wants popcorn, but given that Pierce is the head of the entire franchise, Steve assumes that this won’t make it to television.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says calmly. “I’m just doing my job.”

“If you call that ‘doing your job,’” Pierce states, “then I’d hate to see what it looks like when you’re not trying.”

Now that’s a bit beyond the pale. Steve frowns. “I am doing my job,” he reiterates. “Tony is alive and unharmed. My team is looking into any potential threats—you know they caught an overzealous fan trying to jump the fence last night? This is exactly what I should be doing.”

“Then tell me why a goddamn makeup artist had to step in and convince Tony to keep you on?” Pierce shouts.

Steve blinks at him. “I’m… sorry,” he says carefully. “But isn’t that what’s supposed to happen?”

Pierce sneers at him, an ugly scowl twisting his face. “You think I want to waste our time and energy on you?” he asks, calmer now. “There are other contestants that I want to make sure that boy keeps on the show, contestants who’ll give us actual drama instead of trying to avoid the spotlight. You told me you could do this job, so why am I having to intercede for you? Tell me that, hmm?”

“I can do it,” Steve repeats yet again. “I am doing my job. I’m not a contestant, I never was. Tony is here to find love. I’m not going to get in the way of that when I can clearly make it through the rounds without confusing Tony further.”

Pierce chuckles humorlessly. “You think that boy is actually here for love?” he mocks. “Tony Stark can’t keep an alpha for longer than a few weeks. He’s here to get Instagram followers, get the series up and running again like his dad did, and promote Stark Industries, that’s it. Everyone knows that he won’t actually find love, and if he does, he won’t be able to keep it. No one wants an omega like him.”

Steve can’t help the instinctive protective flash in his gut at Pierce’s harsh words. It’s clear that, no matter what Pierce thinks, he doesn’t know Tony nearly as well as he thinks he does. Loneliness pours out of every single pore on Tony’s body like a rusty sieve that’s only half-held together out of prayers. Steve knew that the first time he saw him on camera, and he’s scared, suddenly, that with Pierce and Tony’s goals at odds, what will Pierce do in his quest for good television?

But it’s like with Ty. Steve can’t just accuse him of trying to manufacture drama and putting Tony at risk without any proof. He’ll get himself fired. Hell, he’ll get his entire team fired. Though he knows that Nick and probably most of the other production team will do their best to stick up for Tony, there’s only so much that they can do when their enemy is the head of the entire franchise.

“You’re wrong,” he says instead. “Plenty of alphas want an omega like that.” For that matter, he wouldn’t mind an omega like that, and if he weren’t here under false pretenses (and if he were any better with omegas than he actually is), then he might even shoot his shot.

“Then act like it,” Pierce snaps. “Stop messing around and do your damn job.”

“I am a bodyguard,” Steve repeats. “That’s my job.”

“Your job is Tony,” Pierce says coldly. “Your job is your client, and that is Anthony Edward Stark, whether he knows it or not. You told me that your team can do this job. I am paying you an obscene amount of money—more money than you deserve to get right now—for you to go undercover as a bodyguard. But I am not going to waste my resources keeping you on this show when there are better contestants to throw my efforts at instead. Do your job or I will fire you and your entire team and then I’ll sue you for breach of contract for not just every penny that I gave you, but every scrap of profit your little company has ever made. Is that clear?”

Steve’s hands flex at his side. He doesn’t like being backed into a corner, and he doesn’t like bullies, which is exactly what Pierce is being. He’s clearly missed a vital part of what Pierce was wanting from him but he can do what Pierce wants, even though he desperately doesn’t want to do this to Tony, who doesn’t deserve the extra confusion of a contestant who isn’t really here for a relationship. It’s what Pierce wants, though, and if Pierce is willing to lord the threat of a lawsuit over Steve’s head, then he has to believe it’s a real threat. There’s too much at stake here to call his bluff. But the threat in the first place—the threat of firing his entire team, not just him, when they’ve done nothing wrong? It doesn’t sit right with him.

“I said,” Pierce says lowly, menacingly, “is that clear?”

“Yes,” Steve grits out.

“Yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

Chapter Text

Tony looks at his list of remaining alphas and scowls. Technically, he has until mid-afternoon to figure out who’s going on the group date tomorrow. The date card just has to be delivered by early evening. He could have gotten up this morning and spent most of the day figuring out who he wanted to go on this first date. But his mind had been too busy after he got back from the rose ceremony last night to actually sleep, so instead he’d gotten to work.

There’s a lot to go through. Some of the alphas for the first date are actually determined by the second date. There are certain people that Tony doesn’t feel comfortable inviting on the second date. It’s nothing against them personally… well, actually it is but not in a bad way. He just doesn’t feel ready to trust them with this part of himself. So that decided about half of the alphas for the first date, and then putting thought into what he wants the alphas to prove on this date had decided the other half.

The real problem is who’s going on the second date.

Or more specifically, the real problem is Steve.

Tony has agreed, if only in his own head, to give Steve one final chance to prove himself of being worthy to stay on this show. He isn’t that enthused to have him here anymore, even though he can still admit that he’s hot, and truthfully, if it weren’t for Clint’s kids, it would have been Steve going home with Carol and Indries last night. But Clint does have kids and that had influenced his decision, so Steve is staying.

For now.

Steve is going to have a long way to go just to reach what Tony is calling his “bottom tier” of alphas. The only other alphas who’s impressed him less is Justin, and Tony has already decided that Justin will be one of the four alphas going home at the end of this week. That leaves another three alphas for consideration, and right now, Tony is certain that Steve is one of those three. If he wants to prove that he can be a good alpha for Tony, then he’d better do something absolutely spectacular this week.

But Tony had agreed to give him another chance to impress him, so he supposes that he should actually give him those opportunities instead of deciding that Steve is one of the two alphas not going on a date this week. He just doesn’t want to. He very pettily wants to pretend that Steve doesn’t exist, just like Steve has pretended that he doesn’t exist. But that wouldn’t be fair, and Tony wants to be fair.

So Steve is going on the second date, and hopefully, he’ll do something amazing.

He still isn’t happy about it.

“I’m being fair,” he mutters to himself and wishes that he’d asked his dad about the not-so-great parts of being the bachelor instead of blithely believing the same fairytale Howard had spun for the entire world.

There’s a small commotion when Steve comes downstairs for breakfast the morning after the rose ceremony. Ty is loudly protesting that he hadn’t done anything wrong to an impassive Gabe, Dum Dum is on the phone with probably Sharon as Peggy argues with Darcy about needing to speak to Pierce immediately, and three different alphas are shouting over Ty’s protests that what he’d tried to do was a violation of the show’s rules and unfair to the other contestants.

“I don’t give a fuck what’s fair to you!” he yells, whirling on the alpha who’d said that—Justin, of course. “Your feelings don’t matter. Or in case you missed it, this is a competition.”

Steve arches an eyebrow and joins Sam, Bucky, and Natasha in the breakfast nook. They hadn’t been among the alphas yelling at Ty, instead making up a few of the half a dozen or so who are watching the argument with interest.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“Ty tried to sneak out last night to see Tony,” Bucky supplies, glaring at the man in question.

Steve’s other eyebrow flies up to join the first. “He did what?” he asks, louder than he meant to judging by the curious looks Pepper and Thor give him.

He shoots a quick look over at Falsworth, who glances up and to the right—the team’s code for yes, something did happen but it’s all under control. Steve hadn’t thought that they wouldn’t have it under control, but given that Peggy isn’t getting anywhere with her demands to see Pierce, he had wondered if he would need to step in. Falsworth’s reaction reassures him that, no matter the outcome, they’ve got it handled though.

“Is that even allowed?” he wonders out loud, giving Falsworth a quick hand signal to let him know that he’ll step out soon to talk to him.

Sam grimaces. “Yeah, but it’s not really encouraged while we’re still at the mansion,” he says. “It’s not like it’s easy to get to the bachelorette since we’re so far out of town. He would’ve needed access to a phone and a car, which is more of a problem for the production team than just seeing the bachelorette. We’ll probably see more of it once we’re on the road.”

“Hmm,” Steve hums disapprovingly. He should have been informed of that during the initial briefing. It’s a weak point in the security, one that he would have told Pierce would not be happening during this season.

Ty finally gives up on trying to convince anyone that he was really the injured party here, no seriously, and storms out with one last glare at Gabe. Steve takes advantage of the drop in tension to slip out as well, joined a few minutes later by Falsworth, Peggy, and Darcy.

He double checks that they’re alone and then asks, “What happened?”

“Exactly as it sounds,” Falsworth replies. “Stone tried to jump the fence last night, claiming that he didn’t like how sad Tony had been after the rose ceremony and he wanted to cheer him up because he just ‘knew that Tony would want him there.’ Gabe caught him, determined that he didn’t have any weapons on him, and sent him back to the mansion.”

“Right,” Steve states. “Are we pulling the plug on him?”

“You can’t,” Darcy says immediately. Steve gives her an incredulous look. “Look, I don’t like him either, but Pierce wants him here. He says he’s good for drama. And Tony clearly likes him. He made out with him twice last week.”

“I don’t care if Tony likes him or not,” Steve says. “If I think he’s a danger, then I’m yanking him out whether Tony—or Pierce—likes it or not.”

“He’s not a danger,” she protests. “He didn’t even have a knife.”

“Gabe did catch him because he had an entire film crew with him,” Falsworth says quietly.

Steve groans, wishing that they’d never taken this damn contract. He rubs the space between his eyes. A film crew wouldn’t really stop a determined murderer, but Ty willingly taking them with him does indicate that everything was aboveboard. “And not a single one of them informed you they were leaving? They were just going to film Ty’s ‘escape’ without saying anything?”

Falsworth nods.

He groans again, feeling a headache building in his temples. Pierce’s fingerprints are all over this. No wonder he’s refusing to speak to Peggy. Well, it’s too bad for him that he’d brought up the contract last night because Steve had gone through the entire thing before falling asleep to make sure that he knew exactly what Pierce could threaten them with, and while he’d already known it, Arnie had made sure that it was in writing that Steve had final say on how to fix weak points.

“Darcy,” he says, “tell Pierce that I’m putting a stop to late night escapes from any of the contestants other than myself. Once Tony’s gone for the night, that’s it, no one leaves the hotel or the mansion. And if he’s got a problem with it, then remind him that it’s in the contract that I can make that decision. Ty can stay—” Not like Steve has much of a choice if Pierce is pulling weight to keep that asshole here—“but he’s skating on thin ice. I see a hint of anything else and he’s gone. Got it?”

“Got it,” Darcy says, quick enough that Steve thinks she might have actually been genuine when she said that she didn’t like Ty either.

“Pegs, Monty, keep me posted.”

Peggy and Falsworth nod, all three of them leaving just as quickly as they’d appeared. Steve slumps back against the wall and rubs his temples. This entire job is becoming more trouble than it’s worth. He should have known it would be when Pierce had offered him so much money, but it would’ve easily paid their rent and utilities for the entire year, so he’d let himself be persuaded. Unfortunately, it’s too late to back out now. He fully believes that Pierce absolutely would sue them if Steve tried to end things at this point—and besides, he doesn’t want to do that to Tony, who deserves better than Ty and Pierce running roughshod all over him.

There’s a knock at the front door—date card time.

He pushes himself off the wall and goes to collect it since he’s the closest person to the door. By the time he gets back to the kitchen, everyone is gathered around. Either someone had collected them while he was grabbing the card or they’d all wandered in while he’d been talking to Darcy and his team. Ty is standing apart from everyone else, arms crossed sullenly over his chest. Gabe catches Steve’s eye and rolls his own; Steve bites back a grin.

“’T’Challa,’” he begins. “’Sam, Thor, Natasha, Loki, Christine—'” Christine perks up at hearing her name called, excited since she hadn’t received a date last week—“’Rumiko, Sunset. Falling in love can be messy.’”

“Seriously?” Justin exclaims angrily. “I still don’t have a date?” He stalks out, though no one cares. Bucky even gives him a sarcastic little wave.

“Falling in love can be messy?” Rumiko muses. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Chapter Text

“Today, I’m looking for an alpha who’s adventurous and isn’t afraid to get messy,” Tony tells the cameras. He brushes his hair out of his eyes. They’re standing on top of Pinniped Point, specifically to get a gorgeous ocean vista complete with sea lions lounging on the beach. It’s a bit of a walk from the visitor center—a little less than a quarter of a mile—but it’s across easy terrain.

“Last week,” he continues, “I told the alphas on my second date that I’ve raced F-1 cars. I was looking for someone adventurous back then but this is different. Last week, I wanted to find someone who could support my hobbies and could maybe get a little dangerous with it. This week, I’m looking on the tamer side of things. This isn’t as dangerous as F-1, but I want someone who doesn’t just want to sit around at home every weekend. I want someone who’ll travel with me and find fun things to do. And because it’s rained a lot recently—I want someone who isn’t afraid of dirt. I’m a messy person. I spend a lot of time working in my workshop, and I come out of that covered in oil and grease sometimes. I don’t want to be with someone who’ll be afraid of that or spend all their time complaining that I’m not completely pristine.” He laughs a little, running his hand through his hair. “Who knows? Maybe they’ll even be willing to join me in my workshop to help out sometimes.”

“Alright, that looks good,” Coulson says. “Thank you for your patience while we sorted out the sea lions.”

Tony droops immediately. “It’s fine,” he says, even though he’s exhausted. It took fifteen takes just to get his pre-date interview out. They’d get started and then discover that the sea lions ruined the take. Tony had suggested multiple times that they move the interview to the lighthouse or one of the scenic vistas since this clearly wasn’t working out but he’d been told that there wasn’t enough time before the boat with the alphas arrived, so they’d filmed in stops and starts and kept shooting over and over again. But the production crew is just doing their job, so he tries to keep his irritation to a minimum.

“Are we done here?” he asks, hoping that someone has radioed in to say that the boat isn’t far.

Coulson looks over his shoulder at one of the production assistants—a new one, whose name Tony can’t remember for the life of him. She nods, and Tony immediately perks up. It’ll be a long day, especially if they keep having the same issues with filming, but he knows (or he hopes, anyway) that getting to spend time with the alphas that he’s starting to develop feelings for will lift his spirits.

They make the five-minute walk back toward the visitor center. It’s windy today, making Tony feel grateful for the layers Randi had put him for this date: a white t-shirt underneath a green pullover underneath a navy blue jean jacket that’s so dark it’s almost black (the only reason he knows it’s not black is because his pants definitely are black and they’re not the same shade). His legs are still a little cold but the upper half of him is very comfortable.

Tony arrives at the dock right as the boat is being moored. He hears his name being called and waves at the eight alphas lining the railing with one hand, shielding his eyes from the sun with the other. As he might have expected, Sam is the first alpha to reach him, lifting him up in a great bear hug that immediately fixes his mood. Thor isn’t far behind him, though, giving him another hug, and then everyone else is there too, grinning at him and telling him that he looks great and giving him quick hugs.

This week is going to be good, he tells himself firmly. This week is going to be better than last week. He’s ditched his original plan of eliminating one alpha from each date and an additional one who didn’t get a date at all. He’s not limiting himself like that anymore, which means that he’s free to make decisions as his heart chooses. So it’s going to be a good week. He’ll make it be a good one.

Starting with, “Welcome to Channel Islands National Park!” He spreads his arms wide, encompassing the island stretching out before them. It’s not huge, only six miles long and that’s if he includes the Middle and West islets which they won’t be visiting today. “This is Anacapa Island, and today, I thought we’d have some fun hiking the Inspiration Point trail before visiting the wreck of the SS Winfield Scott. I’ve been told that all eight of you are certified divers, but the good news is that the wreck isn’t too far down.”

Rumiko goes pale at the mention of diving, which is… concerning. Whatever she’s worried about will definitely need to be addressed at some point. But they won’t be diving until this afternoon, after lunch and a quick lesson on dealing with the potential sharks in the area. Right now, though, they’re going to enjoy the roughly mile-long hike out to Inspiration Point and back, talk about some lighthearted topics before they get to the heavier stuff tonight, and get a little muddy in the process because—

“For those of you who don’t live in the area, we’ve gotten an uncharacteristically high amount of rain this winter and spring. Winter is usually the rainy season around here anyway, averaging anywhere between one to five inches, but just this past month, we got a full eight inches of rain. What that means for us is that our usually packed dirt trail is a whole lot of mud right now.” He eyes Sunset’s white pants but doesn’t say anything about them. “So I hope you don’t mind getting dirty.”

“What fun!” Thor enthuses. He’d clearly predicted—or at least came close to predicting—what they were going to be doing today because he’s wearing sturdy hiking boots under his jeans.

“Yes,” Sunset echoes, giving the mud a distasteful look that she can’t quite disguise as curious. “Fun.”

If anyone had asked Tony to predict who would struggle the most with this particular activity, he would have said Christine and Sunset and possibly Loki and Rumiko, though given how Loki and Rumiko had thrived last week, he wouldn’t have been as firm in that answer. Cleary, he’s got a good feel for his alphas since both Christine and Sunset don’t look too thrilled as they set off down the trail. Sunset keeps trying to avoid the muddiest spots (Loki, on the other hand, keeps walking through them right as she passes by, splashing mud up onto the hem of her white pants, and does it with such a straight face that Tony can’t tell if it’s deliberate or not). Christine manages to mask her expression well enough but he overhears her during her confessional saying that she hates hiking and she wished that he hadn’t asked her on this particular date.

Well, if she’s going to be like that, then he wishes he hadn’t asked her too.

If Rumiko isn’t having a good time, then it’s impossible to tell. She has such a good poker face that Tony isn’t sure if she’s not having the time of her life or even if she is. Given the impassivity, he’s more inclined to think that she’s not, but other than that one reaction when Tony mentioned diving down to the shipwreck, she hasn’t emoted much at all.

And as for Loki, well, there’s the faint hint of a smile lurking around the corners of his mouth every time Sunset hisses at the mud on her pants. But since Tony thinks that her reaction is funny, he isn’t inclined to think too poorly on Loki for it. If he has any other thoughts on the hike, then he’s keeping them to himself.

Tony amuses himself by talking to the other four instead, all of whom are either actively enthusiastic or game enough to enjoy the hike. He strikes up a conversation about the relative merits of Star Wars versus Star Trek, to which Thor replies “Ah, but what about Stargate?” And that’s such a good point that it sparks a whole different discussion. From there, they move onto what everyone likes about their job. Tony spends a good fifteen minutes enthusiastically talking about his hopes for Stark Industries’ future this year abruptly shutting up and blushing when he spots the deeply weirded out expression on Sunset’s face.

“Don’t let anyone shut you up about what you care about, Tony,” Sam says loudly, ignoring Sunset’s scoff. “Your passion is gorgeous.”

Yeah, Tony isn’t even ashamed to say that he already considers Sam to be a strong contender for tonight’s rose.

Natasha deftly navigates the conversation away before an argument breaks out, bringing up her role in last year’s all-alpha production of Romeo and Juliet. There have been a million variations on the ballet over the years, but she’s clearly very proud of being one of the leads in the first-ever all-alpha run. Tony hadn’t seen it, having spent most of the year either in Mumbai, overseeing the opening of a new facility, or here in California, but he’s proud of her for being such a trailblazer.

“It’s definitely a step in the right direction,” he tells her, and she swiftly kisses his cheek, leaving it glowing.

They reach Inspiration Point right around lunch. It’s an absolutely stunning view that overlooks the other two islets that make up Ancapa Island. Tony is even fortunate enough to spot a whale in the distance, its majesty and grace stealing the words right out of his mouth. He isn’t an artist, he’s an inventor, but standing here, watching the waves crash against the rock, he completely understands the moniker for this little spit of land.

“Utterly breathtaking,” T’Challa says softly, echoing Tony’s thoughts.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “Wow.”

“Worth all the mud, huh?” Tony asks.

“One-hundred percent,” Sam says. “Can’t get a view like this in DC.”

“Or New York,” Natasha adds.

Production has brought a picnic with them. It’s nothing special, not like their dinner will be. Just sandwiches and chips and fruit and little brownies. Of course, the meal is catered by one of the season’s sponsors, so it requires some not-so-subtle product placement and everyone exclaiming over how good the food is, but in Juli’s defense, the food is almost as good as they’re hyping it up to be. The mustard on Tony’s roast beef sandwich is clearly homemade, the chips are as well, and the fruit is crisp and fresh. So for as simple as it is, he gives whoever Juli is props.

At one point, Rumiko gets up to talk to Coulson. He looks fairly unphased, but the way he blinks is as good as a sharp look to someone who grew up with him, so Tony figures that something is going on. Neither of them come to talk to him though, which means that it’s not something that he needs to worry about (at least, not yet). He puts it out of his mind and focuses on the story Loki is telling him about the first time he saw an alligator during a business trip to Florida. He hadn’t realized how fast they could move—or that they can climb trees—and nearly gotten himself eaten before his guide had literally beaten it off with a stick. Thor twitches like there’s something he wants to say to that, but he keeps his mouth shut; it must not be important, then.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Tony says once Loki is done.

“As am I,” Loki agrees. “I was lucky my guide was brave enough to face it like that.”

“In Wakanda,” T’Challa says, “we have no reptilian predators, but black panthers roam the forests at night. I was fortunate enough to rescue one as a kitten. She is one of my staunchest friends now.”

“I’m sure she would eat any alligator that threatened you,” Loki says smoothly.

“I believe that she would try,” T’Challa says. “She is my staunchest friend, but most certainly not the most intelligent.” It draws a laugh from the entire group, Loki included.

As the mirth is dying down, Tony notices Coulson giving him a surreptitious hand signal out of the corner of his eye. He stands up and dusts his hands off on his pants. “Are we ready to head back?” he asks as everyone else stands as well.

“No,” Sunset mutters.

“Absolutely,” Sam says louder.

The walk back goes by quickly. They pass a few people, one of whom just waves and another older couple stops to offer advice about finding love, which definitely makes them plants. Not that that makes their advice any less valuable, just maybe a little more trite than he would have liked. It’s less busier than he would have expected though, making him wonder if Pierce paid off all the people who originally had reservations here. He knows for a fact that the area around the Winfield Scott has been closed for filming; it’s not that much of a stretch to think that Pierce might have rented out the entire island. Hopefully the parks service can make up the lost revenue.

While everyone else is taking a bathroom break, Coulson pulls him aside once they reach the docks where they’ll be loading up onto the boat to take them out to the dive site.

“We have a slight problem,” he says mildly.

Tony’s eyes narrow, and he glances in Rumiko’s direction. “How slight is slight?” he asks.

Coulson inclines his head slightly. “Not only is Miss Fujikawa not a licensed diver, she can’t even swim,” he says.

Tony stills and gives her another look. He doesn’t know if Rumiko had lied on the application when she was asked about her qualifications, assuming that there wouldn’t be any diving this season and it was just to cover all bases. It’s equally likely though that Pierce had known that Rumiko can’t swim and allowed her appearance on this date when Tony submitted his list so that he could cause more drama. It’s not that uncommon—one of the alphas (or omegas in the case of The Bachelor) has to sit out due to injury or inability and the bachelorette sits with them and the other alphas on the date complain about the alpha getting to spend more time with the bachelorette than they did. It’s not a huge amount of drama, but it’s still drama and since Tony removed most of the other avenues with his stipulations, he knows that Pierce will be finding other ways to manufacture it.

And if it’s drama that Pierce wants, then it’s drama that he’ll get—just not the way he’s probably gleefully expecting it.

Tony has wanted to visit a shipwreck since he was a little boy. He learned how to dive just so that he could see one, but he’s never had an opportunity to go before now. He’s not letting this slip through his fingers just to comfort Rumiko when she’s the one who lied on her application. Sure, there might be other opportunities for him in the future, but this is the most obvious attempt at drama that Pierce has come up with yet, and Tony refuses to play by his rules. He’s going to see this shipwreck, no matter what.

“Wow,” he says. “That’s too bad. Guess she’ll have a great conversation with the captain while the rest of us dive.”

Coulson blinks. “You’re not going to sit with her?”

“Nope,” he says. “She knew there was a possibility this would happen by lying on her application. I’m not staying on the boat.”

The corner of Coulson’s mouth twitches up. He approves. Tony relaxes slightly. He was still going to go through with this, even if Coulson hadn’t approved, but it’s nice to have the approval of someone he likes and grew up with.

As he’d expected, there’s a bit a furor when it’s revealed the Rumiko is not qualified to dive or even to get in the water and a bigger one when Tony reveals that he will not be waiting with her on the boat. She gives him a very put-out look when he says that, but the seven identically delighted expressions on the other alphas’ faces when he stands firm and suits up alongside them reassures him that he’s making the right call. He’s not here to make good television; he’s here to fall in love. Bowing to Pierce’s and whichever alpha has decided to shoot their shot at a spot on primetime TV whims is not how he falls in love.

The wreck, as he’d hoped for, is absolutely stunning. The great thing about the Winfield Scott is that no one, out of the five hundred people on board, died, so he doesn’t have to feel guilty for gawking at it. And gawk he does. For a wreck that’s in fairly shallow water, it’s in fantastic condition. Plant life is growing on it and animals have clearly made the wreck their home, but the shape is still easily identifiable. It’s still obviously a ship, rather than trying to guess at symmetrical shapes. It’s something to cross off the bucket list, and getting to share it with five people that he’s starting to develop feelings for just makes it all the better.

Dinner is at Kali, some kind of new restaurant that earned its first Michelin star in its first year so naturally, their prices have increased, which means that someone on the production team thinks that it would look good to the viewers to, once again, flaunt the Stark family’s wealth. Tony, on the other hand, would kill for a cheeseburger at some greasy spoon but he doesn’t get to have a say. Part of him is worried that his alphas are getting the wrong impression about him from all of the nice places they keep going to; the rest of him just really wants that cheeseburger.

For dinner, Randi has put him in her first misstep of the season. Her outfits can be very hit or miss, and unfortunately, tonight is a miss. The jumpsuit is somewhere between a blush and beige, making it an unattractive shade of brown. The deep neckline isn’t terrible, but the fabric around the torso is loose and drapes weirdly, adding extra weight to his figure. He doesn’t care for the tight fit of the sleeves at his wrists, and the lace detailing can best be described as “grandomega”, reminding him of doilies covering horrifically patterned sofas. The lackluster responses from his alphas confirm that this is definitely not a win. Sam and Thor manage to muster up decently enthusiastic responses and Loki’s comment about him making the color shine is sufficiently smooth enough that he's sure it’ll get included in the episode, but everyone else looks unpleasantly underwhelmed.

Once everyone is seated around the booth, he says, “I wanted to say thank you to everyone for putting in the effort today. I know not all of you are the kind who wants to get out and get messy, but you put in the effort for me and that really means a lot to me. There were some surprises today, weren’t there?” There’s a low murmuring of agreement. Rumiko has the grace to look abashed. “But you all impressed me with your ability to roll with the punches. As my best friend, Rhodey, says: flexibility is the key to air power. So—” He lifts his champagne glass, everyone following suit—“Here’s to surprises. Here’s to taking each day as it comes and to improvising on the fly.”

“Hear hear,” Thor says, tapping his glass against Tony’s.

“Yeah, I’ll drink to that,” Sam agrees.

“Alright, let’s get this ball rolling, huh?” Tony asks. He glances over the alphas, landing on Rumiko. Yeah. He wants to get this over with now. “Rumi? You wanna—?” He jerks a thumb in the direction of one of the private tables.

“Yeah,” she says softly, following him.

“So,” he says, sitting down, “you can’t swim, huh?”

“I’m so sorry,” she bursts out. “It was on the application, but I didn’t think that we’d actually be going in the water. I just thought that it would make my application look better if I said yes. I really wanted to be here and have a chance at dating you. You have to believe me. I wasn’t trying anything malicious. I just wanted to get to date you. It was a stupid mistake, that’s all.”

She does look desperate for him to believe her, but—“You lied to me.” He can’t excuse that because the thing is, if she lied to him about something as minimal as this, then is there anything else that she’s lying to him about?

“I did,” she admits, biting her lip. “But I promise you that’s all I lied about.”

“Yeah, but how am I supposed to trust you?” he points out. “You lied about something so small. Do you really think that being able to swim is going to make or break an alpha for me? Do you think I’m that shallow?” Pun intended. “But lying to me—that’s a big deal. How can I believe anything else that was on your application if you lied about your swimming ability? Were you actually single before you came on this show?”

“Yes, of course I was.”

“Do you actually believe that I should be allowed to run my own company?”

“Yes! My father, he doesn’t believe that women should run a company either, so—”

“But how can I believe that?” he presses. “You lied to me, Rumi. And yeah, it was something small, but it makes me question everything you’ve told me in case you were just trying to look good.”

She stares helplessly at him, eyes wide and lost. A tear glimmers at the corner of her eye before spilling over, just one and that makes him question things all over again because it’s just such a perfectly cinematic moment. He holds her gaze steadily, silently imploring her to say something, do something, to convince him that trusting her isn’t a mistake. She can only meet his stare for a moment before she looks away, lifting a napkin to dab at her eyes. He slumps, disappointed. And it’s such a shame because he really liked her. Rumiko has spunk, moxie as his grandfather would have put it. She finds new ways to surprise him every single week. Well, he supposes that he’s surprised this week too. It’s just that this isn’t a good surprise.

“Where do we go from here?” he asks her, pushing for an answer, desperate for one just as she’s desperate for him to believe her. “How can you make this up to me?”

She shakes her head and softly admits, “I don’t know.”

“You had fun today,” Tony says knowledgeably when he sits down with T’Challa. “I could tell.”

“You tell many things,” T’Challa agrees. “But yes, I did have fun. My father instilled in me a great love of nature before his death. I do not have as much time to explore the natural world as I once did when I was younger but I still appreciate what time I can find in his memory.”

“Dads can be like that,” Tony replies. “My dad taught me everything I know about cars. It was something that we used to work on together before I moved out. He actually gave me the Roadster that we restored together—”

“When you were sixteen,” T’Challa says with a smile. “You told me last week.”

Tony blushes. “Right.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” T’Challa touches his wrist fleetingly. “Seeing the joy in your face when you talk about the time you spent with him is worth hearing any story over and over.” His smile turns wistful, and Tony straightens. This sounds like T’Challa would like to discuss something serious, deserving of his full attention. “I would give anything to have more time with my father. I was with him in his final moments. He was killed defending our home—a burglary gone wrong, I believe you would put it. I came home as the thieves were fleeing, and I was there with him as he died. I’ve always regretted that I didn’t have more time with him. There is still so much that I could have learned from him.”

“I’m so sorry,” Tony says gently. He presses his shoulder against T’Challa’s companionably. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

“I wouldn’t want you to know what it’s like,” T’Challa replies. “No one should have to go through that.”

He says, “Least of all you.”

“Thank you.” T’Challa turns to face him fully and raises his hand to cup Tony’s cheek. His palm is warm and soft against Tony’s skin, comforting and thrilling at the same time. “May I…?”

“You may,” Tony replies, gladly accepting the kiss that T’Challa offers him. To his disappointment, sparks don’t fly behind his closed eyelids. Fireworks don’t go off, and violins don’t play. But love, he reminds himself firmly, isn’t always the stuff shown in the movies. Sometimes it’s gentler and needs time to grow. And whether or not sparks fly, it’s still a wonderful kiss.

His conversation with Christine, in contrast, is much more stilted. It was pretty bad last week too when they talked at the cocktail party before the rose ceremony, and he feels more convinced than ever that he doesn’t see a future with her. Even if he wanted to put in an effort with her (which he’s pretty sure he doesn’t, considering that she hadn’t really put in an effort for him earlier today), he just doesn’t click with her the way he does with some of the others.

He’s not even certain that he trusts her as far as he can throw her. Christine hadn’t been asked on a date at all last week because he’d felt uncertain that she isn’t working on an exposé, and she’d only been asked on a date this week because he’d felt guilty leaving her out again. But even then, he’d asked her to this one and not the second group date because he doesn’t trust her at the location they’ll be going to for the next date. And if he doesn’t trust her, then how can he possibly think that it'll work out? To be honest, it feels kind of ridiculous to be putting his full effort into talking to her when he knows it isn’t going to work out.

Christine, however, doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. She purrs. She kicks her feet up on the settee behind her, inching ever so slightly closer to him in the process. She tries to feed him from her fingers, which is something that Tony finds gross even normally but especially when it’s someone that he doesn’t feel very attracted to.

At the end of their time together, she tries to lean in for a kiss. Before Tony can think better of it, he turns so that her kiss lands on his cheek instead. He just… doesn’t want to be kissed by her. Not now and probably not ever.

“I feel like today was difficult for you, yes?” Natasha asks once it’s her turn.

“It was that obvious, huh?” he says ruefully.

She smiles, shifting closer to him as she does. It doesn’t feel anywhere near as predatory as Christine had. “No,” she assures him. “I’m sure that no one else noticed. I’ve just made something of a study of reading people.”

“That doesn’t sound ominous at all,” he jokes.

She laughs, low and throaty, before explaining, “In ballet, there is no verbal communication. We prepare in practice, of course, and if a performance goes well, then there won’t be any need for last minute changes. But a performance doesn’t always go well. Sometimes, I’ve landed wrong and won’t be able to get into position for a jump. Sometimes, something has been pulled and my partner can’t do a lift. And sometimes, those happen mere seconds before the important bit happens so it needs to be communicated immediately instead of waiting until we’re offstage. When that happens, reading people is a gift.”

“So you knew that I wasn’t happy with how today went,” Tony concludes.

Natasha nods. “Exactly. You weren’t happy when we first saw you, though we were able to cheer you up. And then when you found out about Rumiko’s inability to swim—things changed for you. You were angry.”

“I was,” he agrees, ignoring the first part of her conclusion. “I don’t like feeling backed into a corner, and that’s exactly how I felt. Either I stayed with Rumi on the boat and missed getting to see something that I’ve been waiting my whole life for—and spending time with the rest of you—or I refused to stay on the boat and looked like a diva. I didn’t feel like there was any winning.”

“You didn’t look like a diva,” Natasha says, her eyes crinkling reassuringly. “You handled it well.”

He didn’t want to have to handle it at all, but he appreciates that she doesn’t think he came off worse in that situation. “Look, I don’t really want to talk about Rumi,” he says, moving closer to her.

Natasha, proving once again how good she is at reading people, gives him a sultry smile and inches closer to him as well. “No?”

“No.”

“What would you rather talk about?” she asks, feathering the words over his mouth.

“Us,” he says simply.

She hums, “I can do that,” and kisses him. Tony’s heart stutters in his poor chest, same as it always does when she touches him. He remembers how it had felt last week when her foot had brushed his, how breathless he’d felt. The feeling is so much stronger now that her hands are on his back and her mouth is on his.

“Come here, kotenok,” she murmurs, tugging him onto her lap. He whines, high in his throat, at the name she’s gifted him and goes, tucking his legs underneath him so he can press ever closer to her.

Later, after she’s left but before someone else comes to talk to him, one of the makeup artists complains, “You’ve messed up your makeup. Now we’ll have to do it all over again.”

“You look like you’re feeling better,” Loki observes.

“And how,” Tony says smugly, still feeling very satisfied with the way his conversation with Natasha had gone.

Loki chuckles and shifts aside so that Tony can join him on the low bench. “Good,” he says. “Whether or not I was the reason for your night improving, I like to see you happy.”

“Thanks,” Tony replies, beaming at him. “You looked like you had fun today.”

He shrugs. “I must admit, I have a mischievous streak. I’ve always had one, since I was a boy. And when it became obvious that Sunset was determined to bring down the mood with her refusal to engage with our activity, I thought that at least I could make things better for you by needling her.”

“I definitely found it funny,” Tony admits. “That probably says something about me.”

“If it says something about you, then it says something about me also,” Loki says carelessly. “But we must take our humor where we can find it around people like that. No matter what we do, they’ll never change their minds. It’s up to us to find the good in the situation.”

“Well said,” he agrees.

“Tony?” Luis interrupts. “Just about time to wrap things up.”

He sighs. It never feels like he has enough time with his alphas before he has to go do something else. “Confessional?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Alright, I’m going.” He bends back down and kisses Loki’s cheek. “Thanks for a great time today.”

“And you as well,” Loki says, picking up his hand and placing a gentle kiss on his wrist.

“It’s a tough decision,” Tony confesses to the camera. “I had a lot of fun with the alphas today. Sam and Thor both put in strong showings at Anacapa earlier. Loki made me laugh with his antics. And Natasha…” He shivers pleasurably. “I always have a good time with Natasha.”

“Do you know who you’ll give your rose to tonight?” Coulson asks.

He thinks about it and then nods. “Yeah, I do.”

He takes his seat among the alphas where they’d started the night and picks up the rose now resting on the table. “I just want to say thank you for such an amazing night,” he tells them. “We had a great day together, and I thought that the night couldn’t possibly improve on that, but you proved me wrong.

“Tonight, I want to give this rose to someone who really opened their heart up to me tonight, who wasn’t afraid to get messy at Anacapa and demonstrated to me a love for adventure that rivals mine. So. T’Challa—”

T’Challa smiles up at him and stands, pressing past Sunset’s legs to move next to him. “Yes, Tony?” he asks.

“Will you accept this rose?”

“Every time you ask,” T’Challa swears, standing still as Tony pins the rose to his jacket. He reaches up to touch the rose as though he can’t quite believe that it’s there, fingers brushing over Tony’s and pulling a shiver from him. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Tony replies, “for being honest with me tonight and letting me see inside your heart.”

One date down, two more to go.

Chapter Text

Bucky pokes his head inside Steve’s room. Steve glances up from his notepad and puts down his pencil when he sees the look on his face.

“Date card here?” he asks.

Bucky nods. “Sam sent me up to make the rounds. You hopeful you’ll get it?” he asks, keeping pace with Steve’s strides.

“Yep,” Steve says grimly, acutely aware now that Pierce would rather risk his bachelorette’s life than put any effort into keeping him on the show. He has to put in the effort this week. He can’t just skate by on goodwill from the first week—if he even has any remaining. Equally aware that he didn’t do anything to endear himself to Tony last week, he probably has to make a pretty spectacular showing this week. It's not likely that he'll get the one-on-one date given everything that happened last week, but he can still hope.

“Yeah, me too,” Bucky agrees. “It’s probably stupid to hope that since I had last week’s one-on-one, but—” He spreads his hands wide. “Tony’s incredible. I want to spend more time with him.”

“It’s not stupid,” Steve says. “You might have made a real connection with Tony. He might already feel like he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.” Fuck, he hopes that Bucky made a real connection with Tony. It’d make Steve’s job all the easier if Tony decided that the show was over and he was going to marry Bucky.

Bucky grins at him. “See, and that’s why you should get the date card. Because you’re so nice.”

Steve doesn’t feel very nice. He feels kind of like a heel. It had made sense in his mind why he hadn’t put in an effort with Tony last week, but looking at it from Tony’s perspective, without knowing why Steve is here, he’d probably looked like such an asshole. He doesn’t want to be an asshole; he wants to be a friend to Tony, supporting him in his search for love since god knows Pierce isn’t going to do it.

They’re the last two to reach the living room, everyone else already seated or standing. Bucky takes the last open seat next to Sam, and Steve takes up position standing behind them.

T’Challa glances at them to make sure they’re both settled, slides the card out of the envelope, and reads, “’Bruce, let’s set sail on our love story.’”

It’s a bit of a surprise to Steve, who has no negative thoughts on Bruce but also occasionally forgets that he’s there because he’s so quiet and unobtrusive. The man is brilliant, Steve will definitely grant him that, but he seems perfectly content to fade into the background rather than pushing his way forward into the spotlight.

Even Bruce seems surprised by the decision, asking, “Really?”

From the other side of the room, Justin asks, “Yeah, really? Him?”

Janet hits him with a pillow.

“You deserve this, Banner,” Thor says earnestly. “You must have confidence in yourself.”

“I have plenty of confidence in myself,” Bruce argues. “I’m just surprised that Tony is interested in me when—” He doesn’t finish his sentence but his glance at Ty says it all.

Steve’s kind of surprised there too. Tony clearly likes Ty. He might not have gotten the group date rose last week, but Tony circumventing the rules of the pageant to crown him the winner clearly speaks to how much he likes him. But it’s now been two weeks, and Ty hasn’t gotten either of the one-on-ones. It makes him wonder if he needs to be that worried about Ty after all or if Tony is wising up to whatever scheme Ty is up to.

“You’ll do great, Bruce,” he says loyally instead of voicing any of his thoughts. They won’t do anyone any good, least of all Bruce. He refuses to make Bruce feel bad over his own failure to secure the one-on-one.

But he can’t deny the sinking feeling in his heart as another opportunity to explain things to Tony slips away from him.

“I really like Bruce,” Tony says, waiting by the pier for Bruce to arrive. He glances at Coulson past the camera, shooting him a quick grin. “He reminds me of some other people I know.” Coulson’s mild look tells him exactly how unimpressed he is with the comparison. “He’s opinionated, and he’s got a good head on his shoulders, and everyone keeps telling me I need someone like that in my life.”

“But?”

“But he fades into the background sometimes,” he admits. “Not completely. Not enough to forget that he’s there. I mean, it’s hard to miss those pretty impressive toasts. But he’s also competing against people like Ty and Natasha and Thor, and it can be hard to stand out against people like that when you’re pretty obviously an introvert.” He shields his eyes from the sun, watching the towncar carrying Bruce pull into the pier parking lot. “I want to see who Bruce is away from everyone else’s shadow. I bet he’s pretty incredible.”

Bruce looks around hesitantly when he gets out of the car like he’s not sure he’s supposed to be there. Or maybe he just isn’t sure where he’s supposed to go, since he relaxes as soon as he spots Tony. He heads on over, Tony waiting until he’s closer to lift his arms for a hug. Bruce is warm and solid, stomach slightly soft against his own. It’s a great hug, and Tony can’t help feeling regretful when he has to step away.

“You look great. I like the color,” Bruce says, eyeing his green sweater.

“Thank you,” Tony says brightly, grabbing the hemline to flare it out a bit. He’s not usually a sweater kind of guy, but when Randi had explained it as basically just a coverup for his swimsuit, he’d been more okay with it. The material is soft and he likes the leaf detailing over the fishnet hemline. Besides, the real appeal is the swimsuit, which he knows Bruce has suddenly registered because he chokes on his own spit.

“What?” he teases. “Did you think I’d make you all wear speedos without being willing to wear my own?” He isn’t actually wearing a speedo, but the Versace swim briefs are a lot tinier than Bruce’s trunks.

Bruce coughs, trying to clear his airway. “I didn’t think that at all,” he manages, slightly strangled.

Tony does a little shimmy, watching with pleasure as Bruce has to drag his eyes back up to his face. He likes knowing that he’s wanted. He likes feeling wanted. And Bruce is someone who wants him, not his money or his influence. Being wanted by him is safe in ways that so many of his other partners hadn’t been. It’s new—and nice.

“What are we doing today?” Bruce asks.

“We are going out on the Amore Mio,” Tony says, gesturing to the yacht behind him.

What he doesn’t say is that the Amore Mio is actually called the Maria Amore Mio, named after his mother because this is one of two Stark yachts. The second, the Antonio Bambino, is docked in New York with his parents. Maria’s name has been carefully covered for the show, according to Luis (who has the best gossip), so that the fans won’t think that too much preferential treatment is being shown to him. Tony thinks about Domaine Carneros and the presence of a yacht at all, as opposed to some little bitty sailboat, and thinks that that’s bullshit and that Pierce is vastly underestimating his viewers. They might not figure out that the yacht is actually the Starks’ but they’ll definitely know that yacht itself is because he has money, which, Tony was under the impression, was the entire point of filming in Napa last week and using the SI racing facilities. It makes him wonder what they have in store for the rest of the season.

Fuck but he wishes that someone would listen to him and just let him go out for cheeseburgers and maybe bowling or something. He really isn’t this pretentious offscreen. It feels like the alphas might be getting the wrong idea about him.

“Oh,” Bruce remarks, giving the yacht a dubious look. “Me on a small enclosed space in the middle of the ocean with no backup plan? That’s not a recipe for disaster at all.”

Tony doesn’t bother pointing out that the yacht has lifeboats, choosing instead to focus on the first part of his statement. “Are you claustrophobic?”

“A bit,” Bruce says.

It wouldn’t be the first time on this show that someone has confessed to nerves, outright fear, or the occasional phobia that the producers have then made them confront because what is The Bachelorette without some psychological drama? Tony actually doesn’t go out much on the yacht, so if he falls in love with Bruce, the good news is that he won’t have to deal with that a whole lot. The bad news, of course, is that they’re both under contract to put up with producer shenanigans so Bruce is stuck for the day.

He resolves to tell the captain to drop the anchor as soon as possible and to spend as much time as they can in the water. The less time Bruce is on the boat, the happier they’ll both be.

They board the yacht, separating for a quick confessional as the crew gets underway. Tony has never suffered from seasickness a day in his life, but he pauses to ask one of the crew members if she can take some non-drowsy Dramamine to Bruce if he needs it. Nia, who’s been with his family for longer than he’s been alive, quirks a smile at him and disappears into the galley.

He gives a quick rundown of his hopes for the day, how he feels about Bruce (again), and his thoughts on Bruce being slightly claustrophobic. “I hope that he’ll be able to have a good time,” he concludes and then grimaces when Coulson asks him to do it again with more excitement. He is excited, but it’s hard to keep that up when he has to keep saying the same words over and over.

He joins Bruce on the deck afterwards, the wind whipping the tails of his sweater around his hips. Bruce looks slightly green, but he pops a ginger chew in his mouth, and by the time Tony judges he’s ready for an actual conversation, he’s looking much more relaxed.

“So,” Tony says, stretching out on the deck chair as the crew bustles around them, “tell me about your research?”

It takes them a little over an hour to reach the area where the captain has determined they’ll stop for the day. Tony makes sure that Bruce’s mind is kept off of the yacht that they’re on, distracting him with questions about his research and his lab group and faculty drama at Culver University, where he teaches. Bruce seems grateful for the distraction, eagerly seizing on every opportunity to expand on a subject if it means he doesn’t have to look out at the waves (Tony would have been happy to spend the entire ride in the cabin but he’d been outvoted by Pierce calling in).

Coulson doesn’t look too happy with their subject of conversation. To a point, Tony gets it. The research they spend most of their time discussing will fly way over the average viewer’s head, reviewing complex biochem topics that most people will never even have heard of. But this is who he is, and he refuses to dumb himself down just to make for better television. The point of the show is so that he’ll find love, and it’s the production team’s job to create a good story out of that search. He won’t do their job for them.

Once they’ve stopped and dove into the crystal clear water, the day takes a turn for the better. Not that it wasn’t fun before—Tony could discuss science with someone who adores their research all day long and never get bored—but it’s clear that Bruce relaxes once they’re in the water and off the yacht.

It’s an enjoyable day. They spend the remainder of the morning swimming and floating and coming up to rub sunscreen on each other before diving back in and doing it all over again. Lunch is a charcuterie board with local cheeses, meats, and fruits and a wine selection from Robert Mondavi up in Napa. Darcy takes their order for dinner at that time for some restaurant called Holbox, which Tony would probably like a lot more if they didn’t serve every single entrée but one with cilantro rice. What can he say? It tastes like soap.

Bruce is a lot more relaxed when they set back off towards Los Angeles around mid-afternoon. Whether it’s the sunshine, the time spent in the water, or the company (Tony knows which one he’s hoping for), it’s clearly helped him. When he eventually starts to get tense again, Tony slides into his lap and kisses him, and that makes everything even better.

Bruce’s arms wrap around his waist, holding him close, so Tony closes his eyes and relaxes into sun-drenched kisses that spin on for an eternity.

Tony is in an Oscar de la Renta white jumpsuit for the nighttime portion. The hemline on the pants and the neckline are both scalloped lace with flower patterns, reminding him slightly of the doilies Jarvis used to use to cover the tables around the mansion until a six year-old Tony used them as rags while he was inventing. The rest of the suit is soft satin though, and he can’t stop running his hands over it.

He meets Bruce outside of Holbox. Bruce is now in a dove grey suit with a gorgeous purple shirt that brings out his shoulders in very appealing ways. Tony remembers how they felt under his hands on the boat and feels a wave of heat and satisfaction for Bruce’s blush wash over him.

“You look great,” Bruce says, running an appreciative eye over him.

“Thank you,” Tony preens. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Thanks, but I feel ridiculous.”

“Not one for dressing up, Doctor Banner?”

“Not even a bit,” he admits, resting a hand on Tony’s lower back as he ushers him through the doors.

“That’s a shame,” Tony says brazenly. “You look good in a suit.”

He’s rewarded with another blush. “That’s—uh—well,” Bruce stutters, and Tony winks at him. Bruce just gives up talking after that, cheeks so red he’s surprised he can’t feel the heat coming off of them.

They take their seats at the lone table in the dining room, the others having been cleared out to give the illusion of a private room. But they’re not seated for very long before Coulson comes over to ask them both for a confessional before they get too wrapped up in conversation.

Tony can’t help but feel annoyed at the interruptions—it was fine in the first week, but now he feels like it’s difficult to get to know someone when he’s constantly being asked to pause and share his thoughts on them—but he obligingly gets up. It wouldn’t do to earn a reputation of being hard to work with. He’s probably never going to be on a TV show ever again as a lead, but he’ll definitely make future appearances in the Bachelor franchise, which means he definitely doesn’t want to come across as difficult, especially with so many people that he grew up around. He wishes his dad had said something about the sheer number of confessionals he’ll be expected to do.

“Alright, Tony, how are you feeling about Bruce after today?” Coulson asks once they’re sequestered in a short hallway just off the dining room.

“I like him,” Tony says firmly. He doesn’t know if he likes him as much as he likes Bucky, given that there had been a couple awkward moments with Bruce’s discomfort on the boat, but he does like him. “Bruce is incredible. He’s so smart, and he’s very fun to talk to, and I enjoy spending time with him. He’s very much someone that I could see myself falling for.”

“There was a bit of a wrench in the plans earlier, wasn’t there?”

“Well, yeah, Bruce being scared of being on a boat wasn’t something that I saw coming.” Eventually, yes, but not in the third week. “But he really impressed me with how he handled it. He was still able to board, he never said a word of complaint, and he willingly participated in everything I came up with to distract him. I think that it shows how mature he is that he was willing to do all of that.”

“What are you hoping for from tonight?”

He thinks about it and then shrugs. “I just want to get to know him better. I feel like there’s something that he’s hiding about himself. Nothing bad! At least, I hope not.” He chuckles. “But there’s this niggling feeling that he hasn’t been completely truthful with me. And I hope that tonight, he’ll be able to open up to me.”

He rejoins Bruce at their table, falling right back into conversation as though they’d never stopped. Bruce wants to know more about his plans for Stark Industries, and Tony could happily talk about that all day long so he does. He’d talked about many of the same things with Bucky last week, but Bruce has the background to understand all of the jargon that Tony uses so he can go into a lot greater detail.

And all in all, things are going swimmingly until Bruce innocently asks, “How has your experience as the bachelorette been so far?”

Tony pauses. Bruce had asked the question seemingly casually—too casually. It’s a leading question, he realizes. Bruce has a specific idea of where he wants this conversation to go, but Tony has no idea what it is. There could be any number of things that Bruce wants to talk about. He knows that several of the alphas are dissatisfied with his preferential treatment of Ty (to which he wants to tell them “too bad.” The entire point of the show is preferential treatment, and while Ty’s words at the pageant still sound too good to be true, he can’t help but feel a little flutter every time he thinks about Ty remembering him all these years later). He’s heard some rumblings about Justin too, though he’s more inclined to agree with those. It could be something else entirely. He just has no idea.

“It’s not what I expected,” he says eventually, which is the honest truth. “I grew up on stories about how magical this experience was for my parents, but I guess they never told me the parts that aren’t so great. Or maybe it’s just been so long that I’ve forgotten. I went into this thinking that it would be—not easy but—I don’t know. I thought that I would meet my perfect alpha and know who they were immediately. That’s not what this has been.”

It's only the third week and he’s already cried over sending an alpha home. Steve has him all tied up in knots. He doesn’t know what to say about Ty other than that he doesn’t want to send him home. He’s falling for multiple alphas and that scares him.

“The bachelorettes before me have handled things so well,” he continues. “They were graceful in the face of pressure and poised and open—” All things that he doesn’t know if he can be—“and I don’t know if I’m living up to that. And then there’s everything with Betty, you know, from five years ago, and I don’t want to choose wrong. I don’t want to—it’s a hell of a place to pick up from.

“I don’t want to pick the wrong person,” he says. He glances at the bodyguards around the room. He knows that they’re there to stop anything like what happened to Betty from happening to him, but how fast can they really be? If someone has a gun, how fast can they get to him? He hadn’t thought about that when he agreed to sign on, and he wishes that he had.

“Yeah,” Bruce murmurs. Then, “I knew her, you know.”

Tony stops, his wineglass halfway to his mouth. He puts it back down, blinking at Bruce. “You knew… Betty?”

Bruce nods, just once, a small, jerky, nervous thing. “We met in middle school. My dad was stationed at the same base her dad was the post commander of. Most of the local schools were too slow-paced for me, so I wound up at the DoD school on base where Betty was attending. It was a small school; there were only fifty-four people in our graduating class, so we got to know each other well. We both wound up at Harvard for undergrad and we…” He spreads his hands wide, expression wan and drawn as he talks about the woman whose death looms over the entire production. “We fell in love. I proposed when we were twenty. We were going to wait to get married until after college, but while we were waiting, her dad found out we had gotten engaged. He’d never liked me dating her in the first place. My dad wasn’t the best at his job, and he’d caused trouble for Ross before eventually getting himself court martialed and tossed out on his ass. Ross thought I was the exact same as my dad. I was never good enough for his little girl.”

“So when he found out you were engaged,” Tony says softly. He knows what Ross can be like. He’s had too many dealings with the man through SI functions.

Bruce nods in agreement. “He blew a gasket. Betty wanted to cut him off, but she’d always been really close to her dad. I didn’t want to ruin that for her. I could see how much it was hurting her. So I suggested we call off the engagement, let things cool off, wait until I was more established in my career and could prove I wasn’t like my dad at all. But that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to get her married off quick, thinking that would stop us. She thought it’d be funny to prove a point by going on The Bachelor.”

He takes an unsteady breath, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling. When he looks back at Tony, his eyes shine with unshed tears. “We both thought it was funny, so I encouraged her to go. But then she made it so far, and then Pierce was calling her up to be the next bachelorette, and it just got away from us. And then…”

Tony reaches across the table and takes his hand, squeezing it once. “Bruce, I’m so sorry,” he breathes, heart breaking at the devastation written across Bruce’s face.

“I just wondered if I’d stood my ground, if I’d gone along with cutting Ross off like Betty wanted, would she still be here?” Bruce whispers, barely able to force the words out.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Tony says automatically, despite knowing that it won’t do any good. This kind of self-blame, it doesn’t go away just because someone says the right thing. And he knows that Bruce knows that just from the look on his face. So instead of pushing, he asks, “Do you want to talk about her?”

Bruce apparently wants that very much. They spend most of the rest of the dinner talking about Betty, but Tony doesn’t mind one bit. It’s clear that Bruce needed someone to talk to about all of this, and he’s more than willing to listen. He’d wanted to know what Bruce was holding back, and this is definitely it. Besides, it feels… right, somehow, to learn more about his predecessor.

For once, no one interrupts them for a confessional or tell them to wrap things up. They let them talk until Bruce has talked himself out and Tony is ready to decide if he wants to give out his rose—after he asks one final question.

“Why are you here?” he asks. It’s been bothering him since the moment Bruce said Betty’s name. It just—it feels like self-flagellation to be a contestant on the same show where his first love lost her life. And believe it, Tony does know something about self-flagellation, but if that’s why Bruce is here, then he can’t keep him on this show any longer. They both deserve better than that.

Bruce gives him a rueful look. “I know what it must look like from your end,” he says, “but trust me, I’m not punishing myself. It’s been five years, and while I think there’s a part of me that will always love Betty, I’m ready to try again. Believe it or not, it was actually my therapist’s suggestion to come on the show.” Tony must raise a disbelieving eyebrow because Bruce actually manages a watery chuckle. “I couldn’t believe it either. I was all set to give online dating a try. He thought that this would be closure for me, though I don’t think either of us expected me to make it past the first week.”

“Are you glad that you did?” Tony asks, genuinely curious.

“Yeah,” Bruce says softly, affectionately. “I am.”

“In that case,” he says, plucking the rose up off the table, “will you accept this rose?”

Bruce smiles gently. “I will.”

Later, after they’ve done final confessionals and kissed goodnight and Tony has waved Bruce goodbye from his car, he stares at the board in his hotel room with all his thoughts on each alpha remaining on the show. He’d given Bruce his rose, and he still feels like that was the right decision, but he can’t stop the tiny doubt that’s wormed its way into his mind.

Is Bruce truly ready to move on with him?

Chapter Text

Steve is already waiting anxiously when the date card arrives. This is his last chance to prove to Tony that he deserves to stay another week before the rose ceremony. He needs to be on this date or else he runs the very real risk of getting kicked out. And if he gets kicked out, then there’s no doubt in his mind that Pierce will follow through on his threat and fire his entire team even though Steve fully believes that they’re capable of completing this mission without him. He doesn’t want to even remotely risk that happening, so he needs to stay, which means that he needs to impress Tony, which he can only do if he gets to go on this date. Sure there’s the cocktail party, but everyone who’s watched the show has told him that that’s not really the place to impress the bachelorette. Odds are, by the time they get to the party, Tony’s already made his decision. Steve needs to impress him now.

Bruce collects the date card since he’s already had his date this week. It barely takes him two minutes to grab it and come back, but as soon as he enters, Justin shouts, “Just read it already!”

Unimpressed, Bruce stares at him until he backs down, muttering an apology that he clearly doesn’t mean. Ty snorts, shaking his head silently.

“’Ty,’” Bruce begins after he’s slid the card out of the envelope. “’Bucky. Janet. Pepper. Victor. Peter. Wanda.’” With each passing name, Steve feels his anxiety grow and grow. Maybe Tony’s given up on him. Maybe he won’t get the chance to convince him. Maybe it’s already too late, and Tony has made his decision, and he’s not even going to wait until the rose ceremony to kick him out. But then—

“’Steve.’”

His breath leaves him in an explosive woosh of relief. It’s not too late.

“’A good relationship is like a spontaneous reaction,’” Bruce finishes. He slides the card back into the envelope and drops it on the table.

There’s silence for a moment, eight alphas relieved to get a date and nine just glad that they already had theirs. Then Justin angrily exclaims, “Are you for fucking real?” and storms out of the room.

Steve meets Peggy’s eyes. She nods subtly and slips out behind Justin, off to make sure that he doesn’t do something stupid—like try to sneak out of the mansion. Not that Steve thinks he’ll have any more luck than Ty did. Justin doesn’t have even a fraction of the stealthiness that Ty has, and Ty was still caught.

“Well, now that the trash has taken itself out,” Pepper quips, “congratulations, everyone.”

Emma, the only other person not to get a date this week, scoffs, tosses her hair back over her shoulder, and stalks away. Pepper’s lips purse as her eyes follow her. They’d had a fight earlier this week over Emma suggesting that Sunset wear white on the group date. Pepper had thought it was a low trick, which Emma had conceded was but that was the whole point of this.

Funny. Steve was under the impression that the point was to fall in love—or at least to not make it so obvious that they’re angling for a sponsorship—but apparently, he still has a lot to learn.

Steve doesn’t know what his expectations for the date were based on the card, but pulling up in front of Stark Industries LA definitely wasn’t it.

He can’t say that he’s surprised though. Stark Industries is very clearly a huge part of Tony’s life, and he can’t imagine that Tony would want to spend the rest of his life with someone who couldn’t care less about the company he’ll inherit and obviously loves. In fact—now that he’s thinking about it… He looks around at the alphas on this date and realizes that not a single one of them works for a competing company. For that matter, every single alpha who works even in just an adjacent sector instead of direct competition either went on the first group date or didn’t have a date this week at all. He doesn’t know if that means that Tony doesn’t trust them or if he’s just not willing to take the risk of a security breach, but it speaks to an impressive amount of love that Tony holds for his company.

They head inside, Steve unable to help noticing that Bucky is massaging his shoulder where it meets his prosthetic. “You okay?” he asks in a low undertone.

“It’s been hurting more,” Bucky confesses. “Kind of grinding when I move it a certain way.”

“That’s not good.”

Bucky snorts. “Now, there’s the understatement of the century.”

“Something I can do to help?”

Shaking his head, Bucky says, “Unless you know how to repair this—” He wiggles his fingers—“’fraid there’s not much you can do.”

He doesn’t know how to repair the prosthetic and by then, they’re entering the main lobby, so he just offers a quick, apologetic “Sorry” before falling silent at the feat of engineering in front of them.

Steve has lived his entire adult life in Los Angeles; he knows what the Stark Industries arc reactor is. Every time SI makes the news for breaking down another barrier between humanity and complete reliance on clean energy, there’s at least one headline about the arc reactor. Morita’s niece even saw it on a field trip to the facility last year. He’d thought that he knew what to expect if he ever saw it in person.

He was wrong.

The arc reactor is almost four stories tall and wider in diameter than it—she, he thinks, because how can she be anything else?—is tall, glowing a bright blue that pulses softly in time with the low humming emanating from her. Balconies ring the circumference, connecting one end of the building to the other, the people walking past her like they don’t even spare a thought for the awe-inspiring marvel that contains so much power just on the other side of the glass. She’s spectacular. She’s incredible. And she’s so beautiful that Steve’s hands itch for a sketchbook and some charcoal, though he knows his favorite medium couldn’t possibly capture even a fraction of the reactor’s beauty.

He's so distracted with the arc reactor that he doesn’t even notice that Tony is standing at the base—until Hill exasperatedly shouts, “Cut!”

It’s only then that he looks down and realizes that the other alphas have left him in the dust in their enthusiasm to get to Tony. And Tony doesn’t look too happy about it. Steve can only imagine what it must look like to him after he went out of his way to avoid talking to him last week.

He winces. “Sorry,” he says, voice echoing awkwardly in the near-silent atrium. He jogs to catch up with everyone else. “Uh, I was just distracted by—” He gestures up at the arc reactor only to realize that it probably doesn’t sound great to admit that he was more enthralled by the reactor than the omega he’s supposedly courting. “You look great.”

It’s a true statement. Tony always looks nice, but he’s gone for classic elegance today in a cream coat over grey pants that match the coat buttons rather than his usual loud style. It’s an outfit that suits him well, maturing him past his youthful twenty-four years. The compliment, however, doesn’t seem to land well with him, as Tony just arches an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Steve says again. “I was just—” He gestures helplessly at the arc reactor. “She’s beautiful. You did an incredible job with her.”

This time, Tony blinks at him, seemingly caught off guard. It only lasts a moment though before he bitingly replies, “I’m sorry. The best you can manage about a project that generates enough power in a day to keep the entirety of California lit for a day is ‘It’s pretty’?”

“No!” Steve exclaims. “No, I know that—she’s incredible, everything about her. I just—I’ve never seen her in person before. She’s beautiful.”

Tony blinks again. Glances up at the reactor. Back at Steve. His expression softens. “You said that already.”

“It’s true,” Steve says earnestly. “She’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

The corner of Tony’s mouth quirks up as he looks back up at the reactor. “Yeah, she’s something alright.”

“Not that this isn’t adorable,” Hill cuts in, rolling her eyes. “But we need to reset the scene and get another take.”

Steve blushes, embarrassed all over again at his failure to do the one thing that’s expected of him as an alpha on The Bachelorette. “Right,” he says. “Sorry again. Uh—” He looks over at Tony, but he’s already turned away. He was probably imagining that Tony was softening towards him anyway.

“Damn it,” Peter mutters as they’re trudging back to the entrance. “Why didn’t I think about the arc reactor?”

They reshoot the shot of the alphas entering SI, seeing Tony, and running to him as they exclaim his name. This time, Steve actually manages to keep up. He even manages to reach Tony first, though Janet throws her arms around him before Steve can hug him, which is good. It’d probably show that he was trying harder to make himself a viable alpha, but it would probably also be really awkward.

“Welcome to Stark Industries!” Tony says once everyone has complimented him and hugged him and finally stepped back.

The alphas make the appropriate awestruck noises. Peter makes a comment about the arc reactor this time. Steve can’t help but look back up at her, amazed by her all over again.

“Any alpha I choose to mate will one day hold the reins of this company with me,” Tony states. Suddenly, Steve understands why they put him in more elegant clothes than he’s been wearing. Tony might be twenty-four, but dressed the way he is, confidently posed the way he is, it’s impossible not to see him as the future leader of an era of clean energy. “As of right now, I hold a little over half of the patents that SI has put out since my birth. That kind of output requires a lot of effort and a lot of time. I don’t expect any alpha to participate in the research that SI does, but I do expect an appreciation for what I put into this company.”

He leads the way down a hallway and swipes into one of the labs, standing aside to usher the alphas inside. There are eight workbenches set up around the lab, surrounding a central table with a huge pile of, well, it looks like junk but Steve would be willing to bet that they’re all important scraps of some kind. A young beta with brown curly hair and a crooked smile is standing by another table holding several tools.

“Mechanic,” the beta says, grin widening when Tony shoots him an exasperated look.

“Keener,” Tony shoots back.

“Yep! That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”

“Today,” Tony says, waiting as each alpha finds a workbench, “I want to give you a taste of what I do. Everything you see in this room can be used to create something, and that’s exactly what I want you to do. By the end of today, I want you to make me something. It doesn’t have to do anything impressive—it doesn’t even have to work—but I want you to have an understanding of my job. This is Harley—” He gestures to the beta—“He’s one of the researchers on my team. He’ll be explaining how to use the tools at your—what’s wrong with your arm?”

He's looking at Bucky’s arm. Frowning at it, actually. Bucky, who had been rubbing his shoulder again, freezes.

“I—uh—it’s nothing,” he says, lowering his hand. “The arm is great. I’m great.”

“And a bad liar,” Tony says flatly. “What’s wrong with it?”

Bucky sighs. “It’s been spasming since last week, an’ now it just aches all the time.”

Tony frowns. “It’s not supposed to do that,” he says thoughtfully. His nose twitches while he looks at it. He whirls around and rounds on Harley. “Can you handle them from here?”

“Uh yeah?” Harley says, giving Tony a knowing look. “It’s no different than our outreach programs at the high school.”

Steve thinks that he should be insulted by that, but considering how intimidated he was by Tony’s order to make something, he actually feels relieved. Hopefully, it won’t be too difficult if it’s designed for high schoolers.

“Great,” Tony says, clapping his hands. Half the alphas jump. “Bucky, with me. Harley, I’m blaming you if something blows up.”

“Hey—”

“Alphas,” Tony barrels over Harley’s protests. He points at them. “Impress me.”

If had just been Bucky, Tony would have let him right into his personal workshop with no problem. Bucky, he senses, isn’t someone who would look at all of the half-realized inventions and try to steal them. The workshop is much better equipped than the standard labs in the facility. And, best of all, his personal workshop is equipped with JARVIS.

But it’s not just Bucky. Tony is going off to spend private time with an alpha, therefore it requires a camera crew—never mind that that private time is only because Bucky is injured and his arm needs repair work. And he doesn’t trust the camera crew in his personal workshop. Some of the people behind the camera? People like Coulson or Nick or Darcy? Yes, absolutely. But not the camera itself. The camera itself is how SI proprietary tech ends up on national television for people to pick apart and reinvent.

Instead, Tony leads Bucky to one of the smaller workshops within his team, which is almost as well-equipped and has JOCASTA, who’s almost as good as JARVIS.

“Alright, sit,” he says, pointing at a stool. He strips out of his coat and turtleneck down to the undershirt he’s wearing. Bucky has done the same thing when he turns around and rolled up his sleeve to give Tony access to the shoulder.

“Thanks,” Bucky mumbles as Tony gathers up the tools he’ll need for the repair. He doesn’t know what it is yet, but he can’t imagine that it’ll need anything different than the tools he used to build it. “You didn’t have to—”

“Sure I do,” Tony says, plopping down on the other stool. “I invented it and now it’s not working; that means it’s on me.” He doesn’t do the repairs for every SI prosthetic out there—there are thousands—but he does a lot of the ones here in the Los Angeles area. “Flex for me.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow.

He blushes and clarifies, “The prosthetic.” A knowing grin spreads across Bucky’s face, and Tony swats his other arm. “Just do it, you asshole.”

Bucky laughs and flexes, the plates in the arm rippling as he does. As the plates in his wrist shift upward, Tony catches the edge of one and flicks it up. The motion unlocks the other plates and they unfold to reveal the inner mechanics of the arm.

“Huh,” Bucky says thoughtfully. “I didn’t know it could do that. I’ve just been using the catch at the shoulder.”

“Well, I have to have some secrets,” Tony says absently. He uses a screwdriver to separate a few of the wires, trying to peer further inside since he can’t spot anything immediately obvious but they’re too clustered together. He pops the screwdriver in his mouth and rolls away to the modelling desk.

“What are you—”

“JO, get me a scan,” he orders around the screwdriver.

“Scanning in progress,” JOCASTA says obediently. She doesn’t have nearly as much of a personality as JARVIS does, but she’s still got enough of one that Bucky jumps slightly at her voice. “Hold still, please.”

Tony doesn’t have anything as prosaic as blue light flashing over Bucky’s arm, but a second later, the 3-D scan appears on the desk in front of him, life-sized and easily picked apart. He does exactly that, pulling apart plates and wires to figure out what exactly is causing the pain.

Bucky rolls closer, obviously curious, and, well, he’s a mechanic, so Tony starts explaining what he’s doing. He’ll understand what Tony is saying, or at least have enough knowledge to guesstimate.

“Oh, here we go,” Tony says eventually, landing on a wire located right in the elbow.

“That looks frayed,” Bucky observes.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I bet it’s the constant motion. Stripped away the coating and then, as you kept using it, it eventually started separating out the ends.” He’ll need to make a note of that and send it out to other repair facilities in case anyone else comes in with this problem. Weird that it hasn’t happened with anyone else before now. The program is almost six years old. “How often do you use it?”

“Uh, pretty frequently,” Bucky says. “You know I’m a mechanic, an’ sometimes it’s just easier to use this arm instead of a jack or somethin’.”

“And how long have you had it?”

Bucky doesn’t even have to think about it. “Five and a half years,” he says promptly.

Tony glances at him curiously.

He shrugs. “It had just hit the news a couple weeks before my accident, so when I lost the arm, I asked my insurance if they’d cover the SI prosthetic instead of a shittier one. I’ll always be surprised they agreed.”

Tony does the math in his head—expanded use plus the length of time he’s had the prosthetic… Yeah, okay, maybe it’s not so surprising that the wire frayed. It might be more surprising that it’s the only wire that’s damaged.

“Are you gonna be able to fix it?” Bucky asks nervously.

“Oh, absolutely,” Tony replies confidently. “Might take me a bit to get at it though. C’mere.” He leads Bucky back over to the pile of tools and flicks through it until he finds the jeweler’s screwdriver he’ll need first. “Tell me a story? It’ll keep your mind off of what I’m doing.”

To his credit, Bucky only flinches once while Tony is locating the panel that’ll switch off the haptic feedback to the prosthetic, cutting off any pain that he feels during the repair. He starts off telling Tony about his younger sister, Becca, and her work as a florist just a few doors down from his shop, and then he’s telling stories about his niece’s antics, and by the time Tony finally has the arm picked apart enough to get at the frayed wire, he feels comfortable enough to ask, “Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

“To the arm?” Bucky clarifies. Tony nods. “I don’t mind at all. It was a while ago. It, uh, it was a train accident. I was twenty-one, traveling between New York an’ Chicago to visit Becca. She went to college there, y’know? And—how much do you know about trains?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay, well, Amtrak is supposed to have priority on lines shared between them an’ freight trains. But freight trains are typically bigger so they just barge ahead an’ do whatever they want, an’ Amtrak typically backs off.”

“How do you know so much about trains?” Tony asks, amazed.

Bucky shrugs the shoulder that Tony isn’t working on. “My uncle’s an engineer. Anyway, the train I was on that day went ahead like they were supposed to—an’ some freight train decided that they were going to call Amtrak’s bluff and go on ahead. Long story short, my arm got crushed under a seat.”

“Fuck,” Tony says softly. “That sucks.”

“It is what it is,” Bucky says. “Somedays—like today—I’m fine with it. Other times, I’m so mad I can’t even—”

“Yeah,” Tony murmurs. “I can understand that. Here we go. Hold still for me, okay?” He pulls out the frayed wire and swiftly replaces it with a new one. Putting everything back into place takes a lot less time than taking it apart, and it’s not long before he’s turning the haptic feedback on again. “How are we feeling?”

“Loads better,” Bucky says. He rotates his shoulder. “Still a little achy, though.”

Tony frowns. “That shouldn’t be happening.” He consults the scan again. “Yeah, I’m not seeing—hang on.” He rolls back and flicks the same panel he’d used to open the prosthetic up, this time downwards. The panels start to close, but Tony catches one of them before it can close all the way. “You hear that?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, cocking his head to the side. “Kinda grinding.”

“It’s ever so slightly out of place,” Tony says. “It’s pulling on the joint at your shoulder, probably causing the ache.” He grabs a small hammer. “Sorry. This is probably going to hurt.”

Bucky braces himself. “I can handle it.”

And he does, not even flinching as Tony hammers the plate back into place. He’d love to know how it got knocked out of alignment like that in the first place, but Bucky just makes an “I don’t know” noise when he asks.

Once he’s finished, once Bucky has breathed the biggest sigh of relief he’s ever heard and released a fuckton of tension that Tony didn’t even know he could have, Tony leans forward to brush a featherlight kiss against Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky shudders underneath him, and Tony is suddenly very aware that it’s just the two of them in this lab (and the camera crew, but they hardly count after three weeks of their constant presence).

But—

There are seven other alphas on this date, and Tony has hardly paid any attention to them at all, which he should do. He’d promised himself that he would give Steve a fair shake, at the very least.

He should probably do that.

“Impress me,” Tony had said, but Steve isn’t an engineer or mechanic. He’s a bodyguard, and occasionally, when he has free time, he’s an artist. He’d sat through Harley’s explanation on how to use the equipment at their disposal, picked out some pieces of scrap metal in the vague hopes of an idea coming to him, and then sat there for nearly an hour piecing random things together.

His hopes of staying on past this week are going down in flames. He has to convince Tony that he’s giving this his all. He can’t skate by on goodwill from the first week—not that there’s any left. He has to impress Tony somehow. But he has nothing.

No ideas.

Useless brain.

The door opens, Bucky slipping into the room, followed by Tony. Steve glances up as the door swings open, just looking in the way that the human eye is drawn to movement—and freezes. Past them, he can see the arc reactor, shining blue and just as beautiful as when he’d first seen her a few hours ago.

And he has an idea.

“The arc reactor,” Tony says softly, looking at the sculpture sitting on Steve’s workbench.

He has to admit, a sculpture hadn’t been what he was looking for when he’d designed this date. He had wanted the alphas to give their best effort at making something that would do something. Peter had made a radio, Pepper a kaleidoscope. Bucky had made a miniature car; Janet had created a tiny closet that flipped through outfits. Ty had built a clever glass onion that unfolded into a gorgeous flower, and Wanda had made a bubble wand. Victor had been the closest to the kind of art installment that Steve had made, crafting a mask with glowing eyes.

And Steve had built the arc reactor, complete with the blue glow and quiet humming.

“It’s not a real arc reactor,” Steve says quickly. “This one doesn’t actually do anything.”

“But you had to figure out the lights and sound,” Tony says.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “That’s—those are what make yours so beautiful.”

Tony doesn’t get him. Steve spends all of last week practically running away from him in every way but physical. He deliberately loses the car race so that he doesn’t have to spend private time with him. He waits out the clock so he doesn’t have to talk to him during any of the parties.

But then there’s this.

The arc reactor. Tony’s baby. His most beloved project. And Steve had called her by the same gender that Tony gives her. He had seen the beauty in her, enough to create her out of scrap metal when Tony said to impress him. It’s the kind of thing that he would have expected from someone who had deep feelings for him, who understood him completely, who could have been—for as much as they don’t exist—his soulmate. And he just—

He doesn’t understand.

Steve is counting this part of the date as a win. His arc reactor had actually worked and done what it was supposed to (after he had to whack it a few times to make it turn on). Tony hadn’t seemed angry about it. Steve hasn’t been tossed out on his ass yet. It’s going pretty well.

It’s only later, while they’re getting ready to leave, that things start to go downhill.

Steve isn’t really paying attention when the situation begins. He’s busy packing up his arc reactor since they’ve been told that they’ll be allowed to keep them, only listening with half an ear as Peter chatters on about his radio and towards the back of the room, Harley is telling Tony about a problem with something they’re doing upstairs. Pepper and Janet are talking about what they’re going to wear for the evening portion.

He only barely notices when Bucky heads over to Tony and says, “Just wanted to say thanks for fixing the arm,” before leaning in to kiss him.

And that’s fair enough. Bucky has probably the closest connection with Tony out of everyone here. It makes sense that he’d feel comfortable enough to kiss him in front of the rest of them.

Peter makes a small dismayed noise and mutters, “Wish I could’ve gotten private time with Tony.”

“And had to worry about a broken arm too,” Pepper says smoothly, raising her eyebrows at Peter’s wordless protest.

“Yeah, whatever,” Peter concedes after a moment. He keeps looking in that direction, though, and makes a considering noise. “Ty doesn’t look too happy about it.”

That gets Steve’s attention. He looks in the direction Peter is to see Ty scowling at Bucky and Tony. Setting aside his miniature arc reactor, he shifts forward onto the balls of his feet, ready to spring forward if Ty does anything. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the rest of his team also preparing themselves.

But all Ty does is approach Tony once Bucky has stepped back and Tony has started towards the door and asks (demands, really), “Hey, where are you headed?”

Tony pauses, giving an unreadable look to Harley. “I’m going to check something out with Harley,” he says like it’s obvious.

“I could walk you there,” Ty suggests. He chuckles.

Tony gives him a funny little smile and says, “No, that’s okay.” He starts walking away, only to pause again when Ty follows him.

“Where are you going?” Ty asks.

“Upstairs,” Tony says slowly. “Don’t you have a date to get ready for?”

“I’m sure I can take a few minutes to walk you upstairs.”

The rest of the room is silent, watching the exchange. Even Tony is staring to look uncomfortable. Steve’s instincts are screaming at him, but Sharon is moving forward, hand hovering above her taser, and he has to reassure himself that his team has got this.

“You don’t have the security clearance, Ty,” Tony says, looking over at Sharon. He makes a motion for her to stay where she is. She ignores him and keeps inching closer.

“Well, do you want to—can we talk for a minute? Over here?” Ty keeps pushing. Steve wants to punch him right in his punchable face; maybe that will get him to back off for a minute.

“Let’s talk tonight, okay?” Tony replies.

Ty chews on the inside of his cheek, but it seems to finally occur to him how tense everyone else is. He laughs and takes a step back, holding up his hands apologetically. “Alright,” he says. “My bad. I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight,” Tony says, motions for Harley to follow him, and leaves.

That night, as Tony is waiting for the alphas to arrive at Osteria Mozza, he bites his bottom lip and says, “Ty tried to grab me once we were done at SI, and I… don’t know how I feel about that. I really like him, but he doesn’t have to be beside me the whole time to know that we’re good. It kind of felt like he didn’t like that I was spending time with Bucky, and I guess—I have a couple relationships that I think are very strong, and I want to pursue those. I don’t feel like Ty was respecting that. It kind of felt like he thinks he has this in the bag already—and he doesn’t. I need him to slow his roll, but I don’t think he gets that.

“Last week, he stole the show for being so amazing. This week, he stole the show again but in a kind of negative way.” Tony sighs, tipping his head up at the stars—not that he can see them in downtown LA. “I know that we have a strong connection. But I think that he either doesn’t get that I feel strongly about him just like he does about me—or maybe he does, and it’s everyone else that he’s trying to scare off. And it’s a red flag, you know? Not a big one. I don’t mind a possessive alpha sometimes. But still. The way he carried himself today, it’s such a fine line between incredibly attractive and not attractive at all. And today, I think it fell on the side of not attractive at all. I have to talk to him about it.”

Maria looks like she wants to say something, but the alphas are arriving then, and honestly, he doesn’t know what he wants her to say. He isn’t as close to her as he is to Coulson or Nick, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready to hear any advice she has to offer him.

“You look stunning,” Bucky says when he gets close enough. “Wow. Give us a twirl, baby doll?”

Tony beams at him and spins, feeling the bright red slitted skirt he’s wearing flare out around his black leggings.

“Wow,” Bucky repeats.

“I feel a little like this is going to have to fall off of me,” Tony admits, running his fingers along the asymmetrical neckline. The right side of it is bunched in close to his neck but the left drapes all the way down to just above his elbow. He’s convinced that halfway through the night, he’s going to have a wardrobe malfunction.

Janet steps in and runs the fabric between her fingers. “Oh no, honey,” she assures him. “This is too stiff to fall off.”

And she is the fashion designer, so she would know.

“Alright,” Tony says, buoyed by her confidence. “In that case, come on in.”

He leads everyone inside, sitting in the center of the couches that have been set up for them. Everyone fills in around him, Pepper on his right side and Ty on his left with Peter and Victor sitting on the ends of the semi-circle.

“Thank you to all of you for today,” he says once he’s gotten the go-ahead from Maria. “I know that sometimes these group dates can feel kind of goofy and silly—”

He gets a chuckle from most of the alphas but, to his surprise, Steve says quietly, “If it matters to you, there’s nothing silly about it.”

It catches him a little off guard, but he gives Steve a cautious smile and says, “Thanks. I, uh, anyway, you all always roll with it, and I am continuously impressed by you. So let’s make a toast to opening up to each other and to having a great night.” He lifts his glass. “Cheers.”

“Cheers!” the alphas chorus.

Tony doesn’t let anyone grab him away, immediately saying, “Ty, you wanna go talk for a minute?”

“Yes, I’d love to,” Ty says eagerly, climbing to his feet. Tony nods once, giving him a smile that feels more like a grimace. He doesn’t think that this conversation is going to go the way that Ty probably wants it to. But, if he’s lucky, it’ll go the way that Tony needs it to.

“You can just take my hand,” Ty says as they walk off towards one of the private rooms. “Or my arm,” he adds when Tony doesn’t immediately grab his hand.

He doesn’t do that either.

Ty doesn’t seem to pick up on the vibes though, telling him as soon as they sit down, “You were so amazing today. Confident and in your element, it was honestly incredible watching you.”

“Thank you,” Tony murmurs, still feeling that same small thrill that had shot through him when Ty first jumped that fence two weeks ago.

“I look at you, and you are beyond special to me,” Ty says. He picks up Tony’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the back. Tony inhales shakily, dreading this conversation. He hates having to talk about his feelings, especially when they’re negative like this, and even more so when Ty is saying such nice things. “You fit the perfect mold of what I’ve been wanting my whole life in a future omega. I knew that from the moment I met you on the playground.”

“So what happened then?” Tony asks, sensing an opportunity to jump in. “With Bucky?”

“I’m letting other alphas develop a stronger connection with you, that’s all,” Ty says, giving him those big puppy dog eyes. “I have to see you put everything you have into each and every relationship. Can’t you get how that feels?”

“Yeah, I do,” Tony says gently, “but, Ty, that’s how this works. It’s—this isn’t normal dating where it’s just two people with each other. And—”

“I know, but I don’t think these other alphas have what it takes to be your future alpha.” There’s nothing but sincerity in Ty’s expression, nothing but honesty in his voice, and Tony really does think that he believes that, but—

“But you don’t know that,” Tony argues. “And I get that that’s how you feel—fuck, I would hope that you feel like that—but that’s something that I have to determine for myself. You can’t make that decision for me.”

“But—”

“You know I like you,” he interrupts, thinking of the steamy makeout session they’d had last week during the cocktail party.

Ty grins at him. “Yes, I do.”

“And that’s amazing, and I’m glad that we have such an automatic connection. Picking up right where we left off in elementary school, but deeper and—and better this time because we’re both older and more mature—I mean, it’s more than anything I could have ever hoped for.”

Ty’s smile grows wider. Tony hates that he has to keep going, but he does. This needs to be said.

“It’s just that I’ve been struggling with it a bit,” he finishes.

Ty’s smile disappears, replaced with a wounded animal look that Tony hates seeing on his face. “Struggling,” he repeats.

“Yeah, I just—” He stops and takes a deep breath, steeling himself. This has to be said. They can’t go anywhere if they can’t get past this hurdle. “I feel like you think this is already promised to you, and that bothers me. It kind of irritates me, I won’t lie, that you’re so confident.”

“Look, can I just cut you off for a minute?” Ty asks. Tony blinks at him, more irritated now than he was even just five seconds ago. Before he can refuse and say that he wants to get through this first, Ty keeps going. “I’m happy we’re having this conversation.”

Tony blinks at him again. “You are,” he states.

“Absolutely. I think that—”

“No, hang on, let me finish,” Tony says, deciding that this is a place where he wants to stand his ground because he has a feeling that the reason he’s glad they’re having this conversation is not the same reason Ty is. “I want you to respect the other relationships that I have on this show, and right now, you’re not doing that. I love that you’re so focused on me, but that’s not the only thing I want from you. I need this to change. I need this cockiness to stop, okay?”

Ty swipes his thumb over his mouth, looking away from him.

“Okay?” Tony pushes.

“Okay,” Ty says. He looks back and smiles reassuringly at him. “I will.”

Tony smiles back at him, reassured by his promise. “Great.”

“So Tony hasn’t handed out the rose to anyone yet,” Wanda says, looking at it in the center of the table.

Steve wasn’t aware that Tony could hand it out any earlier than the end of the night, but he’s coming to learn that the rules are pretty much arbitrary on this show. It irritates him to no end. Things should make sense, for fuck’s sake.

“What do you think will decide who gets it?” he muses out loud, partially because he knows now that he has to participate if he wants to stay on and partially because if Tony hadn’t already given it to Bucky after the hours they’d spent together working on his arm, then he can’t imagine what Tony is looking for.

“I think that the alphas who have been patient and respectful are doing better with Tony now,” Janet says, eyes tracking Ty as he stalks back into the room.

Towards the back, Pepper gets up and slips out, presumably to go find Tony. Steve will need to keep the clock in mind tonight so that he doesn’t lose out on his opportunity to find Tony and apologize for how he acted last week.

“What’s up, dude?” Peter asks as Ty sits down on one of the couches with an overexaggerated relieved sigh.

Ty props his booted feet up on the coffee table, way too close to their food for comfort. Janet wrinkles her nose and shifts the plates away from him.

“Nothing,” Ty says. “Just relaxing.” He’s acting way too calm for someone who’s supposedly relaxing. Steve makes a living off of reading people to predict their actions before they happen. Under the surface, Ty is seething.

“Is everything okay?” he probes.

“Yeah,” Ty says immediately. “Why wouldn’t it be? Things are great.” Count that under things that no one says if they’re actually great.

“What’s wrong?” Wanda asks. “What happened?”

He breathes out heavily through his nose. “I mean, I really only got a few minutes with Tony,” he complains. “He was talking to me most of the time. I didn’t get to really talk to him. But he told me that he was ‘irritated’ with our relationship.” He scoffs, throwing himself back into the couch. “I don’t know how long that’s been going on. But he didn’t even give me the chance to explain myself.”

Good, Steve thinks firmly. Tony deserves to not feel like he’s been steamrollered over. It doesn’t matter what Ty wants or thinks that he deserves. The important person here is Tony.

“Actually, you know what?” Ty stands up abruptly.

Oh no.

“What?” Steve says warily.

“I’m going to go explain myself,” Ty says. “I deserve that. I don’t think Tony walked away from that conversation with the right impression of me. That needs to be fixed.”

“Ty, are you sure about this?” Wanda asks carefully.

“Yeah. It doesn’t sit right with me, our conversation ending like that. I have to fix it.”

He leaves, Dernier sighing and following behind him to make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.

“It was fascinating, getting to learn more about Stark Industries today,” Pepper says, sitting on the couch with one leg curled underneath her so she can face Tony.

“Yeah?” he asks. He thinks his company is interesting, but he can’t deny wanting everyone in his life to think it’s interesting too.

“Mmhmm,” she hums. “I almost went into business, you know. It’s what my parents wanted me to major in.”

“But you switched to art?”

“I added a second major,” she corrects. “It seemed… safer. But I hated everything about business, especially how predatory most of them are. If I’d stuck with it, it would have been a company like SI or nothing.”

“How did your parents take it? When you chose art over business,” he clarifies.

“Not—” she starts, only to stop when the door opens.

Tony twists, gaping in befuddlement when Ty steps into the room. He can’t believe this. He’d thought that they had ended their conversation on a good note, that Ty knew and accepted what he wanted from him and was going to put real effort into fixing his cockiness.

“Am I interrupting something?” Ty asks.

“I—” Tony begins, not even sure what to say.

Fortunately, Pepper does, and she says firmly, “Three more minutes, okay? Just give me three minutes to finish out the conversation.”

That’s a lot more graceful than Tony feels, given that they’d just started their conversation. But if Pepper is willing to bow out, then he has to accept that.

“But I didn’t get to finish my conversation with Tony,” Ty protests.

Tony’s mouth drops open. “I—we definitely finished it,” he assures him once he’s found his voice.

“We didn’t,” Ty insists. “I didn’t get to defend myself.”

“What’s there to defend?” Tony asks incredulously. Pepper is watching the two of them like a tennis match. “I told you that something you were doing wasn’t making me comfortable. Either you fix that or you decide that this isn’t for you and you leave.” He doesn’t want Ty to leave. He wants him to stay and prove to him that the butterflies in his stomach every time he sees him are real. But if Ty truly doesn’t see anything wrong with his behavior, then that’s the end of that.

“I don’t want to leave,” Ty says immediately. “I just think that you got the wrong impression of me.”

“Then I promise you that I will hear you out.” Ty starts to say something else, but Tony holds up his hand to stop him. “After I am finished talking to Pepper.”

It’s a tense moment, wondering if Ty will agree or keep pushing, but finally he nods and takes a step back. “Alright,” he says, still nodding.

“Thank you.” He turns back to Pepper once Ty has left. “Where were we?”

“I was telling you about why I went into art,” Pepper says. That’s not where they were. They were going to open up the conversation into her relationship with her parents, but Tony can accept that the moment was broken.

Fucking A.

Steve keeps one eye on Ty all night. It’s painfully obvious that Ty is kind of self-imploding. He interrupts multiple conversations, trying to get a moment with Tony every chance that he gets. To Tony’s credit, he keeps shutting Ty down, but it worries Steve that it’s happening at all. It isn’t the first red flag that he’s given off since this season started, but it’s indicative of an obsessive behavior that Steve doesn’t like. He likes even less that he’s confined to undercover work instead of being able to shoo Ty off physically.

The good news is that Sharon has stuck to Tony all night and Dernier has stuck to Ty, and between the two of them and Morita, who’s been going back and forth between watching Ty and Tony, he has complete faith in his team.

It still grates at him to be so powerless.

About two-thirds of the way through the night, he judges that it’s a good moment for him to go talk to Tony. Tony isn’t in a good mood anymore, judging by what everyone else has said when they came back from talking to him, but at least he’s probably angrier at Ty than he is at Steve.

Naturally, Ty is lurking outside the room Tony has claimed as his for the night, but Steve ignores him and walks in.

“Steve,” Tony says, looking up. “Just the person I’ve been waiting to see.”

He can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. He’s going to play it like he was. “Yeah, I know I’m probably not your favorite person at the moment after last week,” Steve says.

Tony’s eyes widen in surprise, like he wasn’t expecting such honesty. He even glances at the camera. “I—alright, yeah, if you’re gonna own up to it. I wasn’t too happy with it.”

“I know,” he says. He takes a seat on the chair across from Tony rather than presuming to sit on the couch next to him. “And I owe you an apology.”

“And an explanation.”

“Yeah. I… I’m not good with omegas. Or people in general, for that matter.” He shrugs self-deprecatingly.

“So you decided to go on The Bachelorette.”

“Maybe not my most stellar decision,” Steve admits. Honesty. He needs to go with honesty. Or at least as much honesty as Pierce will let him give. “But I can’t be upset because I got to meet—”

There’s a commotion outside. Steve breaks off with a frustrated sigh. He needs to get this out. He has to apologize because he needs Tony to know that it wasn’t him who was the problem last week, it was all Steve. And now here comes Ty, insisting—well, kind of the same thing in that he also thinks he needs to get something off his chest, but it’s completely different because Ty is only here for himself. Steve is here because this is his job.

Except, when the interruption comes, it’s not from Ty at all.

It’s from Justin.

“Hi, Tony!” Justin chirps. Justin, who wasn’t invited on this date. Who is supposed to be back at the mansion. Who is definitely not supposed to be here because Steve had explicitly said that he was putting a stop to evening breakouts. “You got a second?”

Tony stares blankly at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You got a second?” Justin repeats, brandishing a bouquet of roses at him. “I just missed you so much, I had to come and see you.”

Steve leans around him to lock eyes with Peggy, who had apparently followed Justin from the mansion, and mouths, “What the fuck?”

She looks crazy-eyed and furious, enough so that he resolves to find her as soon as he’s done talking to Tony. He needs to know what happened here, what communication breakdown, what override, whatever that resulted in this situation.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Tony says eventually, clearly baffled and upset.

“It’ll just take a second, I swear!”

“He said no,” Steve says harshly.

Justin glares at him like he isn’t playing along with the plan, but Steve won’t budge on this. Justin isn’t supposed to be here in the first place; he can get over his hurt feelings. It’s a security risk, and, once again, Steve has things he needs to say.

He opens his mouth to keep talking only to realize that Justin has apparently decided that he’s not leaving. “Do you mind?” he asks angrily.

“Nope!” Justin says blithely.

“Okay, fine!” Tony exclaims, throwing up his hands. He looks like he’s on the verge of tears, and Steve’s heart hurts to see him like that when he was so excited at the beginning of the day. “Steve, I’ll talk to you later. Justin, let’s go. Let’s hear whatever you have to say.”

And just like that, Steve’s time—and chance to apologize—is over.

“Alright, what the fuck?” Steve asks once he finally manages to find Peggy. It’s been thirty minutes, and Tony has been arguing with the production team since the moment he finished talking to Justin. No one has gotten a chance to talk to him again, not Steve so he can apologize, not Ty so he can explain himself, not Peter, Wanda, and Victor, who haven’t even had talked to him once let alone multiple times.

Justin had stepped out about twenty minutes ago for a confessional, and Peter, Wanda, Victor, and Janet had all followed him out to confront him. Steve had trailed after them to make sure nothing turned violent, and it’s only now that he’s felt satisfied enough to find Peggy.

“We were overruled,” she spits, so angry her face is turning red. Steve has only ever seen her like this twice before, both times under extenuating circumstances.

“What do you mean, we were overruled?” He shakes his head. “We can’t be overruled, it’s in the contract that I can make these orders.”

“You’re right, it is,” she agrees. “Except that Pierce is arguing that this doesn’t count because filming is already going on.”

Now Steve is angry enough for his face to turn red. He can’t believe this. He should have expected that Pierce would try to undermine him, but somehow, he’d thought that the man would have more integrity than this. Well, he knows better now. He won’t make this mistake again.

“We tried to insist on getting your approval, but Pierce told us Justin was going immediately whether we were with them or not.”

“And you chose with,” he finishes. He runs his hand through his hair, messing up the product the stylist had put in it. It’s the same decision that he would have made, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. He hates feeling backed into a corner, but with Pierce, he never feels any other way. “Alright, just—”

“Steve,” Morita interrupts, poking his head around the corner of the hallway he’d put them in. “Tony’s ready to hand out the rose.”

“What?” Steve exclaims, suddenly panicked. He still didn’t get to explain himself. He didn’t get to tell Tony that he’s sorry or—and three people still haven’t gotten to talk to him at all. How is that fair?

“Yeah, he’s pretty mad,” Morita says. “But Hill called time.”

Shit.

Tony is so done with tonight. So done. He didn’t get to talk to everyone. He didn’t get to hear whatever Steve was going to tell him. He didn’t get to clear things up with Ty. And these…these… fucking shenanigans (though that doesn’t feel like nearly a strong enough word) have him so angry and so tired and so worn out that he feels like crying.

Today started off so good. He’d been so excited to be able to share the first great love of his life with his alphas. And then it had gone so downhill so fast.

And you know what? He doesn’t want to engage with this. He doesn’t want to play ball. He’s not putting any thought into who he gives the rose to tonight. He’ll give the barest trace of an explanation to everyone so that there’s something to show and then he’s going to go back to his hotel room and scream.

“I want to thank everyone for being able to roll with the punches tonight,” he says once the last alpha—Steve—is back from wherever he’d been. “I know we had some surprises tonight—” He carefully doesn’t look at Justin—“but thank you for handling it so well.

“Tonight, I want to give this rose to someone who respected my time and my feelings. I always enjoy spending time with this person, and I can only hope that they feel the same way about me. So, Bucky—” He gives a tired smile to Bucky and holds up the rose. “Will you accept this rose?”

Bucky smiles back at him, knowing and reassuring and warm. “Every time you ask, baby doll.”

Thank god that’s over.

Chapter Text

Steve has been told that usually one of the rose ceremonies held in the mansion, before they start the jet-setting portion of the season, is a pool party (or tailgate party if the lead is a huge football fan). But the production team is clearly still on their “we can’t let you forget for a single second that Tony is wealthy” thing because tonight is yet another cocktail party.

If he makes it past this night, he foresees himself getting very tired of cocktail parties very quickly.

He changes as soon as he hears that Tony has left the hotel, going with a steel gray suit and pale pink shirt tonight. Hopefully, Tony will like it. Not that he thinks he’ll get to stay just on the merits of how he looks, but Steve is all too aware of how he looks. With any luck, it’ll work in his favor tonight to score him a conversation with Tony. It’s his last chance. He has to explain what happened last week and get a complete apology out. The date last night had been a good start but he needs to finish it—without any interruptions this time.

“Five minutes!” Sam hollers up the stairs to anyone still not downstairs.

Steve checks his reflection one more time in the mirror. Please let Tony like it. He’s made so many missteps already. He can’t afford to make another one.

Leaving, he only makes it a short ways down the hallway before he hears raised voices coming from inside Loki’s room. Steve pauses, glancing around to see if any of his team members are around, but it’s just him, Loki, and whoever is yelling at Loki. He quickly crosses to Loki’s room, gingerly peering around the open doorway to see what’s going on and if it needs his intervention.

Thor, of all people, has Loki shoved up against a wall, one hand fisted in Loki’s shirt, the other pointing in his face. “—need to tell them,” he snarls. “Or—”

“Or what?” Loki challenges. “You need to watch that temper of yours, Odinson. We wouldn’t want Tony hearing anything about that, now would you?”

Thor freezes, seemingly realizing how this would look to anyone watching. He takes a step back, eyeing Loki mistrustfully.

Loki ignores him, dusting himself off. He looks completely unruffled by Thor’s anger, saying silkily, “That’s better, isn’t it? Now, I suggest that—”

“Is everything alright in here?” Steve asks, rounding the corner and stepping inside. He has no idea what’s going on, what Thor thinks Loki should tell the rest of the group, or what anger issues Thor apparently has, but whatever this is needs to be broken up now. Tony will be arriving any minute now, and they need to be in the living room before that happens.

Thor gives him a concerned look. “Did you—” he starts to say.

Loki cuts him off. “Of course. We were just discussing my dietary concerns for this upcoming week.”

Steve thinks that it’s bold to assume he’ll be staying on another week and that’s assuming that Loki is telling the truth, which he doesn’t think he is. But whatever the issue was, it’s not his business. Thor potentially having anger issues, however, is, and he’ll need to let his team know about that. He glances at Loki, who sardonically sweeps his arm out to usher both of them out of the room. Hmm. Maybe he can let his team know about Loki too.

They’re not the last to arrive. That honor belongs to Victor, who sweeps into the room in a forest green velvet suit (somehow managing to pull it off and even look dignified while doing it) only a minute before the front door opens.

Steve waits on tenterhooks for Tony to appear. He wants to stay on another week. The more he learns about these people, the more nervous he feels leaving Tony to fend for himself. This is Steve’s job, and he’s damn good at it if he could just manage to do it instead of being stymied by Pierce at every turn.

Tony, when he does arrive, looks much more relaxed than he did last week. He’s in a shimmery silver romper today with an asymmetric overskirt and no back. The sparkly heels he’s wearing accentuate his legs, pulling the attention to them. He looks as sleek and confident as he did when Steve first saw him yesterday.

He comes to a stop in front of them. “Alphas,” he says with a cocky little smirk that says he knows exactly how good he looks. Steve shakes his head fondly. He’s thought it before and he’ll probably think it again: confidence looks good on Tony Stark.

“Before we get this ball rolling,” Tony continues, “I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for such an amazing week. You all continually impress me. I know that there were some surprises, some ups and downs, but you all handled it so well. Thank you.” He lifts his champagne flute. “Here’s to tonight being just as great as the rest of the week was. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” everyone says.

Almost immediately, Ty steps forward as soon as glasses have been put down. “Tony, can I—?”

“Of course,” Tony replies easily, though… Steve might just be imagining it but there’s something that seems a little frustrated with the situation.

Ty leads Tony to a small alcove with a stone table and candles set up in a semi-circle on a chair rail. It looks cozy and intimate, and Tony can’t help but relax. He’d felt a twinge of irritation when Ty had been the first person to step forward. It’d felt too much like his actions during the group date and brought back those frustrated feelings. But this looks promising, no matter what Ty has up his sleeve.

Ty leads him to jump up to sit on the table. Tony half-expects him to move in between his legs, but Ty takes a respectful step back instead. It’s nice—reassuring, even—to know that he isn’t just going to act like every other knothead alpha Tony has dated.

“I’m sorry for stealing you first,” Ty says. “I just wanted you to know that I thought about what you said last night, and you’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be acting like such a jealous prick. You’re not my omega yet.”

“Thanks,” Tony says softly, accepting the apology for what it is. He knows that Ty can’t help his own feelings, but he doesn’t have to act on them.

“Tonight should be all about you, so I brought you out here for a little massage,” Ty says. “I want to help you to relax. This can be stressful, I know, so I wanted to help you unwind a bit.”

“Oh!” Tony exclaims, touched by how thoughtful he’s being. He has been stressed out, more overwhelmed than he thought he would be by how the show is going.

“And,” Ty says, grinning boyishly at him, “this is just a sneak peek of what might come further down the road.”

Tony laughs. “Is that so?”

“I’m very good with my hands.” Ty urges him to lay down on his stomach. Tony laughs again. “If you ever want a massage—” He bends down and kisses Tony’s shoulder where it meets the back of his neck. Tony breathes out unsteadily, turned on just by that simple touch. It’s always been a bit of a sensitive spot for him. “All you have to do is ask.”

He relaxes into the massage, rolling over onto his back when Ty tells him to. He feels languid, liquid, and yet so turned on from Ty running his hands all over his body that he can barely stand it.

“You look so relaxed,” Ty murmurs. “I just want to…”

He doesn’t finish, but the heat in his eyes tells Tony exactly what it was he was going to say anyway. And fortunately, it’s exactly what Tony wants too. He sits up, spreading his legs for Ty to slot himself between them as he drapes his arms over Ty’s broad shoulders.

“Kiss me,” he demands, and Ty does.

Except—

“What’s going on?”

Tony blinks, pulled completely out of the moment. “I—” He turns around to see Peter standing there, looking so awkward that Tony just knows one of the production team sent him in here without warning him what was happening. “Massages, actually.”

It’s such an understatement, and all three of them know it, considering Ty’s shirt is unbuttoned now and hanging off of his shoulders. But Tony is embarrassed and he’s sure that Peter and Ty are both embarrassed too, so he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Oh,” Peter says, looking between the two of them. “I’ll just—” He jerks a thumb at the door.

“Sorry,” Ty offers. “I’m sure this isn’t what you wanted to see right now.”

“No,” Peter agrees awkwardly. “Not super appealing, I gotta admit.” He turns to leave. “I’ll just leave you two to—”

“I’ll come find you in a minute?” Tony calls after him.

“Sure.”

As soon as he’s gone, Tony slithers down to the floor, dropping his forehead against his knees. “Fuck,” he swears. He should have known better than to get hot and heavy with a contestant during a party. He should have expected the interruption. It’s so common on this show, but somehow, he’d convinced himself that things would be different for him, that the crew’s obvious affection for his family would temper his season.

He should have known better.

“Hey, he’s the one who interrupted,” Ty points out, shirt still unbuttoned, both of which are so far from helpful that Tony wants to yell at him. But that, however, would be even less helpful right now, so he lets it slide.

“I don’t know what to—” he starts and then stops. Of course he knows what to do. He has to go diffuse this situation with as much dignity as he can pull together even though he feels like an absolute idiot, and hopefully, Peter won’t be too upset about walking in on something like this. “I need to go talk to him.”

“Do you have to?” Ty asks, giving him those adorable puppy dog eyes. “Things were just getting good.”

There’s a part of Tony that wants to say fuck it and let Ty distract him for another few minutes. But he can’t. That wouldn’t be fair to Peter.

“Sorry,” Tony says, getting up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Peter hasn’t gone too far, fortunately, just a few alcoves over. Tony stands there for a moment, admiring the cut of his suit (really, he’s psyching himself up) before he pushes off the wall and approaches.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

Peter looks up at him and gives him an awkward, lopsided smile. “Hey. How are you?” He stands to give Tony a hug.

“I’m good,” Tony starts, then shakes his head. “I’m really embarrassed by what just happened.” Mortified would be a better way of putting it.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Peter says immediately. “It’s kinda weird, but—and I don’t know if you’ve noticed this—but there are a lot of alphas here who are after you.”

Somehow, the way that Peter is able to take this as a joke not only breaks the tension but relieves some of Tony’s embarrassment over being caught. He laughs, relieved to know that Peter is taking this so well.

Peter gives him another hug, telling him, “It’s fine. Really.”

Tony groans. “It’s just awkward, you know?”

“Hey, it’s fine. I get it. This is harder for you than it is for me, I think. I only have one person I’m focused on—you. You’ve got all these alphas to try to juggle, and you know what? I think you’re doing an incredible job. It’s okay what happened in there, I promise.”

“I know, but I like spending time with you,” Tony says.

“Well, can’t say I’m not glad to hear that.”

“And I just don’t want you to think that I’m not invested in us because of what you walked in on. First of all, it looked like way more than it was.” Yeah, Ty’s shirt was unbuttoned, but it’s not like he was on top of him or anything. Tony hadn’t even finished unbuttoning it. “And, I mean, it was just a massage. It wasn’t anything—please tell me we can laugh about this someday.”

Peter laughs. “We can laugh about it now if you like. It was kinda funny when you think about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I was just so surprised in that one moment, you know?”

“Oh trust me, I know.”

“You know what I should have done? I should have walked back in with my pants hanging around my knees, that’s what I should have done.”

Tony laughs, so relieved by Peter’s reaction. “Hey, we can make it a party!” His laughter fades, replaced by a fond smile. “Thanks, by the way. For handling this so well. I like knowing that we can laugh about it.”

“Absolutely,” Peter says, and it looks like he’s going to go in for a kiss when, for the second time that night, Tony’s conversation with someone is interrupted.

“Hey, Tony!” Justin says, pointing finger guns at him. “There he is, my leading man!”

Tony is going to kill whichever assistant keeps letting people interrupt his private moments. How is he supposed to fall in love with anyone like this? It’s impossible, he swears. Every day he spends on this show, he questions more and more how his dad was able to manage it, especially when it wasn’t love at first sight for either Howard or Maria. He’s starting to feel like maybe he should just go with the first alpha who impressed him. Maybe that’s what love is supposed to be, because, surely, it’s not supposed to be like this.

“Justin,” Peter says flatly.

“I actually got something planned for you and me,” Justin says to Tony, ignoring Peter completely. “You want to come over here and take a look?”

“I’m…” He casts a pleading look at Dave, who’s currently behind the camera. Dave shakes his head subtly. No help coming from that corner. Fine. He’ll handle this himself. “Can you give me five minutes? I’m talking to Peter here.”

“Oh, well, Peter can come too then! We’ll all go,” Justin says immediately, turning his smarmy grin on Peter. And though Tony tries to protest again, Justin walks over to take his hand and pull him up. Sharon, the angel, starts forward like she’s going to order Justin’s hands off of him, but Justin lets him go first.

“Come on!” Justin urges. “You’ll love it.”

Fuck, but he can’t wait for the rose ceremony.

What Tony will supposedly love is a heart made out of rose petals on top of a picnic blanket with a covered platter in the middle. Tony gives it a dubious look and almost refuses to sit down because surely, surely, Justin isn’t that oblivious as to think that this is actually going to win him a chance at staying on tonight. But the cameras are still turned on him, and he’s painfully aware that he can’t be too much of a diva or else he’ll ruin SI’s reputation. He’s already had too many moments this week pushing back against the show’s hijinks. He needs to be careful tonight.

“Sorry,” he mutters to Peter as Justin guides him to sit down in the middle of the blanket, the two alphas on either side of him.

“It’s fine,” Peter mutters back.

It’s not fine, and as Justin starts talking about a conversation he and Tony had had during the first week, it becomes painfully aware that Justin was trying to act magnanimous by inviting Peter but really he’s just rubbing it in.

“And we both know how refined my palate is,” Justin says with a broad wink, “so I had these specially ordered from Germany.”

He uncovers the platter with a flourish and—Tony gags as the smell of unwashed feet hits him, quickly covering his nose and mouth in an attempt to keep from being sick. Peter isn’t nearly as lucky, leaning over to the side and retching into a potted plant. Even Justin, who supposedly just loves this kind of cheese, is looking a little green.

“I even got this bread for us to spread it on,” Justin says, choking the words out past the odor. “So cheers to a bright future!”

There’s nothing bright about it. Tony feels like he’s going to be sick. He can’t even pretend to take a bite, just setting the bread and cheese down quickly. Their little picnic doesn’t last much longer with first Peter making his escape when Justin hands him the platter lid to dispose of. Peter looks madder than a hatter as he storms off, and Tony wants to go find him to apologize yet again, but the night is already growing long, and he still has a lot more people to talk to. He makes his excuses only a minute after Peter has left and leaves.

“Wait! Don’t I get a goodbye kiss?”

Peter is yelling to Justin about something. Normally, that’s something that Steve would be watching to find out if he needs to step in, but the night is already half over and he still hasn’t talked to Tony yet. His team looks like they have the Justin/Peter situation well in hand, and since he does trust them to do their jobs even when he’s not there to keep an eye on things, he leaves to find Tony.

Tony is having a conversation with Wanda, so he politely hangs back until they’ve wrapped things up and Wanda has left. He needs to talk to Tony, but he refuses to be one of the assholes interrupting his conversations with everyone else. That’s happened too much this week, and he won’t add to it. He’d rather get kicked off the show tonight than be that kind of a dick.

Tony stays seated for a minute after Wanda leaves, so Steve seizes the opportunity before anyone else can come along and nab him. He supports their quest to find love with Tony, but considering the gamut of alphas Pierce put together, he thinks that his job is more important than their feelings. They can find love at a different time.

“Hi,” he says, knocking on the pillar he’s standing next to.

Tony startles but not too badly. He blinks owlishly up at Steve, clearly starting to lose steam tonight. “Hey,” he replies, sounding surprised. “I was starting to wonder if you were going to find me tonight.”

“Yeah, I guess I did give off that impression last week, didn’t I?” Steve says. He gestures at the bench next to Tony. “Can I sit?”

Tony nods silently and shifts over to give him room. Steve tries not to take that as a bad sign that Tony had been pressed practically thigh-to-thigh with Wanda but is practically sitting on the other side of the bench from him.

“You said that you were bad with people,” Tony prompts once he’s sitting down. “And it was a bad decision to go on The Bachelorette, which kind of has me curious to know how you’re going to fix this.”

Steve coughs into his fist. Yeah, that probably hadn’t sounded the best since he hadn’t been able to finish. “I just meant I’m not an extroverted person,” he says. “I’m not good with competitions. I’m terrible at putting myself out there.”

“All things that you need to do on The Bachelorette,” Tony says dryly.

“Yeah,” he replies sheepishly.

“So why are you here then?”

That is the million dollar question, isn’t it? Why would Steve, if he hadn’t been hired for this job, come on this show?

“Because I wanted to try something different,” he says. It’s kind of true too—this is very different from his other jobs, and he definitely wanted to try it for the amount that Pierce is paying them. “I haven’t been able to stay in a relationship for very long through traditional dating.” Also true. His longest relationship was with Sharon, and that ended in disaster. “Maybe this could work out better.” Not true in the slightest, but there’s only so much that he can be honest about without giving too many hints that there’s something else going on.

“Alright, fine,” Tony says. “You wanted to try something ‘different.’ What happened last week then?”

“I panicked,” he says. He’d actually thought this one through so he knows what he’s going to say. “I… You are an incredible omega, Tony—an incredible person. And I’m bad at first impressions. And second ones too, usually. It takes people a while to warm up to me. And when I thought about spending time with you—just you—I suddenly started thinking about all those dates I ran off and I didn’t want to do it again.”

“But that’s pretty much exactly what would have happened,” Tony points out. “At the rose ceremony. Maybe not your best move.”

“I did say I panicked, didn’t I?” Steve says jokingly. “I don’t think I was really thinking last week at all.” It does actually draw a reluctant smile from Tony. He’ll take that as a win. “But I promise you, I want to be here. There’s nothing more that I want.”

Even before Steve’s apology, Tony had been planning on keeping him on for at least this week. He’s not overly enamored of the guy, but there are other people here that he dislikes or distrusts more, and he thinks that they can go first.

But then Steve had apologized, and it had been sweet how awkward he was about the whole thing. He’d seemed genuine and honest when he explained how he’d panicked. Tony hadn’t been able to help believing him. He doesn’t know if he can fall in love with Steve… but then there’s the whole thing about the arc reactor. That had been what really sold him on keeping Steve here for the next week. It’d given him hope that Steve really does want this to work out, that he’s not just paying lip service to get his big television break.

“Hi,” Emma says, cutting into his thoughts. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Oh, hi,” he says, still mulling over the Steve Problem in his brain. “Yeah, go right ahead.”

He’s somewhat ashamed to admit that he doesn’t really pay attention to what she’s saying, only responding with hums and encouraging noises when she pauses. Emma seems nice, but he can’t forget that it was her sister who he’d sent home before even the very first rose ceremony—or why he sent her home. It makes him nervous, he’ll admit it that she’s hiding something beneath that elegantly refined demeanor.

“—two children, of course,” she says, abruptly bringing him back down to earth.

“Sorry, what?” he asks.

Emma pauses, brows furrowing. “I don’t know what you mean,” she says slowly.

“You want us to have kids?” he asks.

“Of course,” she says like it should be obvious. “Two, at the least. One to carry on your name and one to carry on mine.”

He stares at her, uncomprehending. This is making it sound like… but he can’t have children. He’s biologically incapable of it. And she should know that. It was one of his stipulations when he decided to become the bachelorette. He’d told Pierce that he wanted every single alpha to know that before they signed any contracts in case it changed someone’s mind.

Just to check, just in case she’s forgotten, he asks carefully, “You think that we’ll have kids?”

“Obviously,” she says simply. “We have to. We both have family-owned companies. Carrying on the legacy is our duty. But don’t you worry about pregnancy. My family has the best midwives on retainer, and I know that you will look beautiful.” She reaches up a hand to stroke his cheek, but Tony can’t stand it.

He shoves off the couch, reeling backwards until he hits the wall. “But you—” he says desperately, trying to put the pieces together in his mind. “I—”

And then it hits him: Pierce.

Of course. Once was a coincidence. Whitney wasn’t necessarily something malicious on the part of the producers. She may have just floated by under the radar. But twice, twice, that’s something more. That’s his requirements being ignored. That’s—that’s—

“Excuse me,” he utters and flees.

Well. Flees isn’t exactly the right word for it. That would imply that he doesn’t know where he’s running to. Tony knows exactly where he’s going: the production tent set up in the driveway. He needs to talk to Pierce now.

“Tony, wait!” Dave calls after him, chasing after him with the camera. Tony ignores him.

“Did you tell them I can’t get pregnant?” he demands as soon as he’s burst through the open flap.

Pierce looks up from whatever conversation he’s having with Rumlow, his assistant. He raises an eyebrow. “Tell them what?” he asks, politely confused like they’re discussing whether it’s raining or not if Pierce broke the single most important clause Tony had in his contract.

Dave finally catches up, panting, “Sorry. I tried to keep him at the party, but—”

“It’s fine,” Pierce says, waving his hand indulgently.

Dave nods and hoists the camera higher on his shoulder.

“Now, what was that you were saying, Tony?” Pierce asks, turning back to him.

“Did you tell the alphas I can’t get pregnant before they signed their contracts?” Tony repeats. “It was in my contract. They all had to be told.”

Pierce blinks at him in surprise. “Why, no,” he says apologetically. “Of course I didn’t.”

“I—of course?”

He spreads his hands wide benevolently. “It’s not in your contract that we had to tell them. What’s in your contract is that you said you wanted to tell them.”

“What? No,” Tony says, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t have done that.” He wouldn’t have. The circumstances surrounding his infertility were traumatic enough that he didn’t want to have to force himself to tell thirty people, some he would never see again, that he can’t give them children. He doesn’t even want it to be on television at all. He’d specifically wanted the alphas told beforehand so that it wouldn’t come up in conversation and therefore the rest of the world wouldn’t find out about it. There’s no way he would have signed a contract that specified he would be the one to tell the alphas about his infertility.

“Rumlow, can we get a copy of Tony’s contract?” Pierce calls over his shoulder. Rumlow nods once and saunters off to the file cabinet.

It doesn’t take him long to locate it. He passes the contract over to Pierce, who flips through it to the clauses Tony had had added. Pierce nods in satisfaction.

“Here, there we go,” he says, pointing out the clause for Tony to look at. “It’s right here in writing: you wanted to tell the contestants yourself about your—” He glances down at Tony’s stomach—“infertility.”

“No,” Tony says again, still shaking his head. “I didn’t—that’s not what I signed.” He knows that’s not what he signed. Who would possibly want to relive their trauma on national television? He’s not an idiot, and even if he was, Stark Industries has a team of lawyers behind him.

“Tony, my boy, that’s exactly what you signed,” Pierce says gently, showing him his signature at the bottom of the page. And it’s his signature but he swears he didn’t sign that.

“No,” he repeats, shuddering in revulsion. Pierce doesn’t get to call him that. No one gets to call him that, not since—“What about the footage?”

“The footage?”

“Yeah, the footage,” he says desperately. This will prove that he’s right, that he’s not losing his mind. He doesn’t know what this contract is but it’s not the one that he signed. “When you told me that you wanted me to be the bachelorette. I told you right there that the alphas had to be informed before coming on the show.”

“I—I’m so sorry,” Pierce says, shaking his head sorrowfully. “If we had that footage, then you’re right, I’d go and inform them right now of the mistake we made. But we don’t keep the footage after we’ve cut scenes.”

“What?” Tony whispers, his last hope crashing down on him.

“We can’t afford to keep the dailies,” Pierce says.

“No.” He knows he keeps saying that, but he can’t stop. He looks at the others in the tent, at Dave and Rumlow and Darcy and Luis. “You were there. You saw it. One of you must have kept the footage in case you needed it again.”

They all look away, right down to people who’ve known him since he was a baby. “I’m sorry, Tony,” Darcy says quietly. “Pierce is right. We don’t keep the dailies once we’ve cut the scene.”

“We can’t all be made of money,” Pierce sighs.

No, this can’t be happening. Not to him. He’s a Stark. Other people have these kinds of things happen on this show, but not him. He grew up with these people. They know him. They love him. They can’t do this to him.

But they can. They will. They are.

And it hurts. Deeper than the thing with Whitney. Deeper than Justin interrupting his date, than Steve ignoring him, than Ty acting so shitty this week. This hurts.

“Right,” he says numbly. “Let’s call them together then.”

They deserve to know the truth. He owes them that.

“Now, Tony, let’s not—”

“This party is over.”

“I need to apologize,” Tony says dully once the alphas have been gathered in the rose ceremony hall. Nick, who had been called in early for this, frowns confusedly where he’s standing off to the side. “I have to tell you something. You were all supposed to be told this before you came on the show, but the—”

He stops. There’s no point in trying to say it was the production team’s fault. The contract will say it was Tony’s, and it doesn’t matter that he would swear up and down that that’s not the contract he signed. According to that contract, it’s on Tony to let the alphas know about his infertility, and Pierce is holding him to that. It doesn’t matter that he can barely think about it without shaking, that he still wakes up screaming in the middle of the night with memories, that he doesn’t want to have to be the one to talk about this.

It has to be said, and Tony will have to be the one to do it.

He inhales shakily and tries again, “You should have been told this, but there was a mix-up. But it’s important that you know, because I know this will impact if some of you want to continue on.

“I can’t have children.”

The room is so silent he could hear a pin drop. He doesn’t think it’s ever been this quiet in this room before. He feels fragile now that the words are out in the open. Memories and judgement swirl in his mind. He wants this night to be over. He wants to go back to his hotel room and pretend that tonight never happened. First with Peter and Ty and then with Justin and now with this. It’s been such a fucking nightmare of a night, and he wants it over.  

He sniffs, feeling like he’s going to break apart at any moment, and says, “Um. I will never be able to give an alpha biological children, and if that’s important to you, then I won’t judge. You can leave now and I’ll never say anything about it.” He tries for a smile. He’s not even sure he manages a grimace. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

So many times, he’s started a relationship that he’d thought would be good and then they’d sat down and had this conversation and his partner had just gotten up and left. After all, what good is an omega if they can’t do the one thing they’re supposed to? And yeah, maybe that’s just what people have told him, maybe Rhodey has told him that’s bullshit and he’s not any different for how he is, but when enough people say it, when enough of them leave, it’s hard not to believe it.

The first person to move is Emma. She looks genuinely regretful as she hugs him and says softly, “I’m sorry. It’s just—I want children of my own,” but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. In the deepest part of his heart, he’d really hoped that no one would want to quit.

Even so, he nods and hugs her back. “I understand,” he whispers. “I wish you all the best.”

She smiles sadly at him and leaves.

Christine steps forward next, but if he was hoping she would be as kind as Emma, he’s sorely mistaken. “You know,” she murmurs when she hugs him, low enough that the cameras might not catch it, “I came here looking for a story. Imagine the one that you just broke. What will your board say when they find out?”

It hurts, like she’s just stabbed a knife into his stomach. He’s never really trusted her, not from the moment he met her and found out she’s a journalist. It’s why he didn’t ask her on a date at all during the second week and why he asked her to the one that specifically wasn’t at Stark Industries this week. But hearing it from her own mouth, that she only came here to dig up dirt on him for an article, hurts.

And then it’s Sunset, who looks at him disgustedly and says, “You really thought you’d come on here—a broken omega—and thought someone would want that? Really? No one wants something like you.” The look she gives him isn’t fit for the dirt beneath her heels, and he chokes back a sob.

It’s no different than what anyone else has told him, but being on a show that’s supposed to be all about him, it makes it hit different. He’s broken, she’s right about that, and it doesn’t matter that there are a whole bunch of alphas who are still here. The words still cut deep.

Rumiko is the last one to step out of the lineup. This one hurts worse than any of the others. Sunset, Christine, Emma—he hadn’t had the same connection with them that he’d had with Rumi.

“You sat there,” she whispers, giving him this betrayed look that makes him want to curl over, “and lectured to me about lying, and all along, you were sitting on this?” She shakes her head, expression twisting into a snarl. “You fucking hypocrite.”

Her hand comes up, too fast for Tony to do anything about it even if he’d wanted to. All he can do is flinch away and close his eyes, hoping that it won’t hurt too much. He deserves this. Whether he’d meant to or not, he’d hidden this life-changing fact from them, and Rumiko is right. He had no right to lecture her about keeping things from him when she hadn’t known the biggest thing about him.

Except it doesn’t hurt at all. It doesn’t even land. And when he opens his eyes, it’s to see Rumiko’s wrist caught in Sharon’s iron grip.

“Don’t,” Sharon says, voice pure steel. “Let it go.”

Rumiko glares at her and wrenches her hand away. But she doesn’t try to strike him again, instead storming off in the same direction the other three had gone. Silence falls in the hall. No other alphas step forward.

It crashes down on him then, everything that just happened. How he’s been betrayed by people he trusted. How he’s bared his heart to the nineteen people in this room and four of them turned it back on him. How all too soon, the entire nation will know about a secret he’s kept for ten years, a secret that he never wanted them to know.

And he can’t anymore.

“Excuse me,” he chokes out, and this time, he does flee.

“Tony!” Nick shouts and runs after him. A moment later, the front door slams.

In the sudden quiet, Peter utters, “Holy shit.”

The tension breaks. Impassioned mutterings break out among the alphas. Steve glances over towards Sharon, who still looks furious. She’s never been okay about raising a hand to anyone but especially not alphas to omegas. After a moment, she looks back at him and nods. She’ll be okay, which is good because Peter’s right.

Holy shit.

Steve has a feeling that he knows exactly what happened. It’s the same thing that’s happened with everything he’s tried to do: Pierce stepped in. From the first sentence, it was clear that Tony didn’t want to have to talk about this, that the subject made him uncomfortable to the point of tears. For a subject that’s clearly so emotionally fraught, there’s no way that Tony wouldn’t have made sure his alphas were told about it before the start of the show, which can only mean that Pierce did something to make sure that he would have his desired drama.

And drama he got.

Sunset’s words still ring in his ears, and they weren’t even meant for him. Rumiko’s hand coming up still plays behind his eyes when he closes them as does his recrimination that he wasn’t quick enough to stop it. Sharon had, but Steve is the team leader. He should’ve been faster. But it doesn’t matter how he feels about it, he reminds himself. Tony is the only one who matters here, exhausted and devastated as he must be.

 “Alphas,” Nick says, walking back into the room. He looks incensed, ready to go to battle on Tony’s behalf, as he should be. Tony needs as many people in his corner as he can get since the lead producer isn’t. “Tonight’s rose ceremony is cancelled. Tony decided tonight that he would be giving out fifteen roses tonight.” He gestures at all of them. “Fifteen of you remain after tonight’s… revelations.” His mouth twists like he hadn’t liked the use of that word but been forced to use it anyway. “Tony has decided not to send anyone else home tonight.”

Steve breathes out, not sure if it’s relieved that he’s staying, angry that that means so are Justin and Ty, or upset for Tony that he didn’t get to make that decision for himself. Probably a mix of all three, if he’s being honest.

“I have had the pleasure of knowing Tony for the last twenty-four years,” Nick says. “And I’ll tell you one thing: he handles his own. I hope you’ve picked up on that.” Steve isn’t sure if he’s imagining it but it almost seems like Nick is looking at someone else other than the remaining alphas. “He takes in the information and then he takes care of business. I just wanted to make sure you all knew that.”

“Yeah,” Sam murmurs. “I get that.”

“Good. Now, on to business. Normally, Tony would’ve been the one to tell you this but as you can see, he’s returned to his hotel room, so I’ve taken this on instead. It’s time to leave the mansion.” He pauses. Steve gets the feeling that usually, this would elicit some kind of pleased reaction, but it just feels wrong in this somber atmosphere. “Pack your things tonight and leave them outside your doors to be picked up in the morning. Hopefully, you’ve included your cowboy boots because, alphas, you’re going to San Antonio, Texas.”

This is greeted by further silence. After a moment, Janet awkwardly says, “Yay.”

“Yeah,” Nick says heavily. “That about sums things up. I’ll be back in the morning.”

It’s stilted after Nick leaves. They all had an idea of how this night would go, but that’s been turned completely on its head, and now, most of them can’t seem to decide if they want to stay and talk it out or head up to bed. Steve follows everyone else’s leads and leaves when they do, stopping only to talk to Peggy briefly.

“If anyone wants to sneak out tonight to go talk to Tony,” he says softly, “let them.”

Right now, Tony probably needs the comfort and support from someone sneaking out to see him. Or maybe he just wants to be left alone, but Steve can’t imagine that he wouldn’t want to be reassured that the rest of them don’t see him as a broken omega or a hypocrite.

Peggy nods, and he slips upstairs to pack. It doesn’t take him very long. He’d never really bothered to unpack, perfectly content with living out of a suitcase for a few weeks instead of bothering with putting things in drawers. They’re given ironing boards; he could iron out the wrinkles.

It occurs to him that he’s focusing on the stupid things so that he doesn’t have to think about the devastated look on Tony’s face when Emma stepped out of line. He’d seemed so shrunken by the end of it like he’d truly thought that he deserved the absolute garbage they’d been telling him. When Steve thinks about how confident and joyous Tony had looked at the beginning of the night, it makes him want to hit things (preferably Pierce). He hadn’t deserved any of that, not to have to tell them the way he had, not to have that revealed for drama on a TV show, and not to have the reactions he’d gotten.

It kills him. It really does.

Once he’s finished, he climbs out his window and heads on down to the guesthouse to discuss security arrangements with his team. That doesn’t take them too long either. Most of the plans were worked out weeks ago, and for the most part, nothing about the situation has changed. Steve just wants to make sure that they’re all on the same page.

As they’re wrapping up, he asks, “So who left to see Tony?”

Peggy and Falsworth glance at each other. Gabe is the one who speaks up though, saying, “No one, boss.”

That actually really surprises him. “No one?” he repeats incredulously. He would have thought that someone would sneak out. They’d all been horrified by what had happened, surely one of them would have thought to offer up some comfort.

Dum-Dum shrugs. “I s’pose most of them think they’ll talk to him next week.”

“Or that he doesn’t want to talk about it at all,” Peggy says.

That just blows Steve’s mind. From the moment he met him, Steve could see how desperately lonely Tony is. Even just watching him tonight, it was so clear how much he was looking for validation from the people in that room—and he hadn’t gotten it. Four different people had told him he wasn’t enough, but not a single one of them had told him he was.

That’s not okay.

“Get me a car,” he orders. He might have only ever planned on leaving the mansion to handle security problems, but even Pierce had told him: Tony is his job. And tonight, he’s going to do just that.

“I’m heading out.”

Chapter Text

Tony isn’t expecting it when the knock comes but he’s not surprised. It was an emotional night. It wouldn’t be that unusual for a contestant to decide to come see the lead and offer up support or comfort or a cuddle partner (and get some good facetime for when they make their inevitable influencer debut after the show, which is perhaps uncharitable of him but after tonight, he’s not feeling particularly charitable).

What is a surprise is that when he opens the door to find Steve standing on the other side, there isn’t a single camera in view. Tony even pokes his head out into the hallway to make sure. He sees Morita standing guard a few doors down, but no cameras.

He pulls back, frowning. Why aren’t there any cameras? Steve is missing out on a golden opportunity to make himself look good to the viewers. It doesn’t make any sense (not that anything about Steve ever does).

Steve is looking more nervous the longer Tony stands there without saying anything, he realizes.

“Hi,” he says finally.

“Hi,” Steve replies. “Are… you doing okay?” He winces immediately after saying it like he knows what a ridiculous question it is when Tony is certain there are still tear tracks on his face.

“I just had to reveal something deeply personal and traumatic on TV that I never wanted to but other than that I’m doing just peachy,” Tony says sarcastically.

“Alright, yeah, I deserved that,” Steve admits, running a rueful hand through his hair.

Tony asks bluntly, “What do you want, Steve?” He’s tired and emotionally wrung-out. He has an early flight tomorrow because he has to be in San Antonio before the alphas get there even though all he’s doing is greeting them. Unless Steve has something meaningful to say (and he can’t imagine that he does considering that there aren’t any cameras around to catch it), he just wants to be left alone to lick his wounds in private before going to bed.

Steve squares his shoulders reminding him just how tall he is. “What happened to you tonight wasn’t right,” he says straightforwardly. “You didn’t deserve any of that, not having to tell us like that or what Emma or Sunset said or especially what Rumiko tried to do. Pierce should never have put you through that, and I—”

He stops and really looks at Tony in his oversized sweatshirt and Coca-Cola bear pajama pants. Tony just lets him, daring him to say something. He wasn’t expecting company, and guess what? He had a bad night so he’s wearing comfy clothes. Sue him. But whatever Steve thinks about him looking like a slob, he doesn’t turn around and leave, so it can’t be too bad.

“I keep thinking about how happy you looked the first time I saw you at the mansion,” he continues. “You were so excited to be starting this journey. But tonight… I saw all of that wiped away in one instant, and it wasn’t right. None of this is about us. It’s about you. I just want to see you happy again like you deserve.”

“So you came here to talk to me?” Tony asks, not sure what he’ll say if that’s exactly why he’s here. Steve isn’t one of his frontrunners. He’s not the person that he really wants to talk to if that’s why he’s here. He’s definitely no Justin (and how Tony hates that Pierce wouldn’t let him have a rose ceremony after all that so he could at least send Justin home too), but he’s not Sam or Bucky or Ty.

“No, I—only if you wanted to talk,” Steve says quickly. “I actually came to see if—what I mean is—look, I spent my entire adulthood here in LA, and I thought, if you were up to it, you maybe wanted to go check out this place that I always go to whenever I’m feeling upset. It’s got the best cheeseburgers in the city.”

Tony blinks at him. Steve’s offer is… thoughtful. And it feels ridiculous to think that he wouldn’t have expected it out of him, but he hadn’t. Getting to go out where he doesn’t have to be On all the time, where he doesn’t have to think about how tonight went, where he’s not being forced to talk about his feelings about tonight, it’s a level of thoughtfulness that he wouldn’t have expected from the same guy who just last week did everything in his power to make sure he wouldn’t have to talk to him.

But just in case Steve’s motives aren’t as pure as they’re coming across, he cautiously says, “You know, if you’re angling for date points, you forgot to bring the cameras.”

“Fuck the cameras,” Steve snarls, so vehemently that Tony actually takes a step back. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t—sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, I shouldn’t have snapped. Look, I snuck out, okay?”

“You what?” Tony didn’t even know that was possible until this very moment. “You can do that?” Aren’t there cameras and bodyguards all over the place to make sure that doesn’t happen?

“I mean, I cleared it with the bodyguard team,” Steve says. Well, that answered that question. “But I didn’t want to come here with this whole cameracrew and make you think that you had to go with me. Tonight is about you, just like it should have been all along. And if you want to send me back to the mansion right now, then I want you to feel like you can do that without having to worry about how it would look. I just want you to feel comfortable.”

It's reasonable. It’s thoughtful. It’s… like nothing Tony would have expected from anyone on this show ever before.

And it’s that, more than anything else—this freedom to say no if that’s what he wants—that makes him say, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Steve asks, apparently unable to believe it like he was fully expecting that Tony would tell him to turn around and leave. “Really?”

For the first time since Emma mentioned children, Tony finds himself laughing. “Yeah, Steve. Really. Show me this place that you’re so fond of.”

When Steve was eighteen and a new undergrad at UCLA, he’d dated a pretty, seemingly genuine slip of an omega who’d promptly cheated on him with one of the football players. Brokenhearted that night, he’d taken to the streets where he’d wandered for hours, contemplating returning home to New York and the full ride he’d received for Colombia, before he eventually stumbled across Monster Entertainment. And somehow, in the course of that one night, he’d decided that he was going to stay in Los Angeles out of spite. He’s never figured out one way or another whether it was the fun he’d had that night or the advice he’d received from his waitress, who’d taken his sobbing in stride, but then again, he’s never cared to figure it out. He rather likes the feeling it gives to him to say that Monster Entertainment saved him from making the biggest mistake of his life (literally; the very next day, he met Peggy and Sharon).

Monster Entertainment was first and foremost an indoor minigolf facility when it opened. Since then, it’s added bowling, laser tag, an enormous indoor playground, and a vintage arcade. The real draw, however, is the attached restaurant. Stylized as a drive-in theater complete with classic convertibles and a starry ceiling, the screen plays nothing but old B-list sci-fi films.

And the best part of all (in Steve’s opinion) is that everything, with the exception of the restaurant, is glow-in-the-dark.

When Tony walks in just ahead of him, he has the pleasure of watching real, genuine delight spread across Tony’s face as he takes it all in. Steve stands back and watches with satisfaction, pleased that his plan to help Tony forget his pain for at least a couple of hours worked. He’d hoped that he would like it, that he wasn’t showing him something that mattered so much to him only for him to blow it off. But Tony is grinning at the stripes on his sweatpants glowing a bright, fluorescent purple, and Steve feels something in him unclench.

“Good choice?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Tony says, breaking into a small giggle when a neon orange ball shoots over their head through the clear tubing that runs from the eighteenth hole back to the front desk. “This is… amazing. I’ve lived in this city for four years and never knew this existed.”

Steve grins back at him. “Yeah, it’s kind of a hidden gem. D’you want food first or to do something else?”

“Something else,” Tony says firmly, eyeing the minigolf course. “I want to go a round.”

“Sounds like a plan.” As Steve walks backwards towards the front desk, he adds, “I’ll warn you though. I am the champ at this course.”

Tony glances up at the all-time leaderboard above the desk and hums thoughtfully. “Well, you’ve never played me. I am excellent at minigolf.”

And Steve doesn’t doubt that—no one with a mind for engineering like Tony’s could hardly be anything else; he bets he’s good at pool too—but this course has more than a couple tricks up its sleeve.

Steve can admit that he’s a competitive bastard at all times, so there’s no way that he’s going to go easy on Tony, not that he needs any help. Steve has played this course enough—and he’s excellent at figuring out which angle he needs—that he hits a hole-in-one every single time, but Tony is right there with him every single time. He certainly proves that he deserves that title of genius, figuring out holes in minutes that took Steve months of playing.

And playing with Tony is fun. They heckle each other back and forth, challenge each other for trick shots that most people wouldn't dream of taking, and banter like they’ve been doing it their entire lives. It’s a side of Tony that Steve hasn’t seen before, relaxed and carefree, so much better than the pinched unhappiness that he saw earlier this evening or the stress of the last group date. It’s different even from his confidence and joy from the first night, leaving Steve wondering where this Tony has been for the last three weeks. He’d had no idea that Tony was putting on a façade this entire time, and it makes his heart ache to think that maybe he’s putting it on because he thinks he has to, because he thinks that no one will like him if he’s really, truly himself.

The good humor lasts all the way up to the seventeenth hole—the one with the windmill. Traditionally, a windmill is the kind of obstacle that a player would want to take their time on to figure out the timing. Steve doesn’t have that concern after so many years of playing, so he waits just long enough to know where he is in the cycle and then swings. The ball rolls neatly between the spinning blades, through the tunnel, and plops down in the hole just on the other side.

“Beat that,” he tells Tony smugly.

Tony narrows his eyes good-naturedly and retorts, “With pleasure.” He, however, doesn’t know the trick to the windmill, so he crouches down and watches a few rotations pass by, obviously getting a feel for how long each cycle takes. Steve, on the other hand, starts counting rotations in his head.

“You need some help down there?” he calls as they’re nearing the fifteenth rotation.

“I am perfectly capable of sinking my own hole-in-one, thank you,” Tony says primly, standing up. He lines up… swings… and the ball bounces off the blade and slowly rolls back to their feet.

Steve can’t help himself. The befuddled look on Tony’s face is absolutely priceless. He bursts into laughter, only to have to immediately fend Tony off when he starts swatting at Steve’s arms.

“It’s faster?” Tony howls. “It’s faster! You dirty, rotten, no-good—”

“It’s the seventeenth cycle!” Steve laughs.

“No!”

“It is! It spins faster on the one rotation,” he insists.

“No!” Tony shrieks again. He picks up his ball, marches around the windmill, and drops it in the hole. “Hole-in-one.”

“Hey! You can’t—”

“Hole-in-one,” Tony shouts over him, laughing as well now.

And it suddenly strikes Steve so hard, so fast, that it takes his breath away—how incredibly beautiful Tony is. It’s not a new thought. He has it almost every time he sees him. But there’s something about the way he looks now, in a raggedy pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that’s falling off his shoulder, laughing so hard that tears are rolling down his cheeks.

He's beautiful.

Tony glances over at him and notices he’s not laughing anymore. “You okay?” he asks, his own giggles dying away.

It takes him a second but Steve manages around a suddenly-dry throat, “Yeah. Uh, hole-in-one, you said?”

Tony’s entire face lights up at him agreeing to play along, and all Steve can think is, Well, fuck.

He wouldn’t have expected it but Tony is actually enjoying tonight. When he’d gone back to his hotel, he’d fully expected that he would spend the rest of the night reliving the pseudo-rose ceremony and the vicious things that had been thrown his way and then shaking from nightmares once he tried to fall asleep. But Steve had shown up. Steve had surprised him, taken him to this absolutely incredible little joint and given him one of the best nights he’s had since he started this rapidly-evolving disaster.

And it’s not over yet. Once they’re done with their round of minigolf and returned their clubs (neon blue for Steve and fluorescent red for Tony), Steve leads him down a short hallway to a small antechamber decorated like the interior of an old concessions stand.

“What’s this?” Tony asks curiously, feeling much more lighthearted than he had when Steve parked almost two hours ago.

Steve shrugs. “I promised you the best cheeseburgers in LA, didn’t I? Margo, car for two?” he asks the waitress.

“Car?” Tony repeats. “Where have you taken—oh.”

“Tony, welcome to the Dine-In,” Steve says, stepping aside to let Tony get a better look at the old timey drive-in. It’s all inside, of course, but the starry sky and the convertible cars parked around the screen (playing what looks like Attack of the Giant Leeches) makes it feel like they’ve been transported back in time.

“This is incredible,” Tony murmurs, unable to believe that somehow, he’s never stumbled across this place.

Steve looks genuinely pleased to hear that like Tony’s opinion had actually mattered to him. “Thanks,” he says. “I did my best with the walls.”

“You did this?” Tony looks at the walls. They don’t have the impressiveness of the night sky ceiling but are still beautifully painted illustrations of more cars stretching back in the lot to the concession stand where they entered and then further back to a wooden fence before meeting the sky. It’s masterfully done work that he would have expected from a professional, not someone who works in security.

“During the remodeling a few years back,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly—as though that’s something Tony would ever look down on him for. “I dabble in art a bit, mostly charcoals and colored pencils, but this place meant so much to me that when I heard about them struggling to make up the money for the remodeling, I offered to help out.”

“Huh,” Tony says softly. Last week, if he’d heard Steve say something like that, he would have thought that it was a ploy to get a sympathy rose. But now, after tonight, after Steve showing up without a single camera to document this, after he didn’t treat Tony any different for what had happened, he thinks that maybe Steve is just a fundamentally decent guy, and he likes that.

He likes that a lot.

Their waiter swings by to take their orders, Steve ordering a bacon burger and Tony ordering a house cheeseburger, which intriguingly comes with crispy onion bits on the burger. It’s delightfully crunchy and the garlic aioli adds such a satisfying flavor to the burger that Tony inhales half of it before he thinks to come up for air.

“Alright, I might have doubted you,” he says around a curly fry, “but you’re right. These are the best burgers in LA.”

Steve grins at him. “Glad you approve.” His smile fades into something thoughtful. “Can I tell you something?”

“It’s a free country.”

“Well, it has to do with what happened earlier tonight.” That does give Tony some pause but Steve quickly adds, “Feel free to stop me at any time if it’s too much for you. I don’t want to make you feel worse.”

It’s another one of those reassuring statements that puts Tony at ease so he nods.

“I can’t have kids either,” Steve says bluntly. “Um, my dad was a sorry sack of shit, and when he thought that I misbehaved, which was all the time, he’d take food away from me. I was sick a lot too, and he always told people that’s why I looked so underweight, so no one ever thought anything about it. He died when I was sixteen, and suddenly I was putting on weight—and height; drove my mom crazy trying to buy my clothes, let me tell you—for the first time in my life. Mom wanted to get me checked out to see if there’d be anything lasting from everything, and that’s when we found out I couldn’t have kids anymore. And I just wanted to say that I know what it’s like. You’re not alone in this.”

“I’m sorry,” Tony says softly, touched that Steve would be willing to share this with him here, where there are no cameras to make him look good, and now, when they’ve struggled so much over the last three weeks to connect. For no other reason than to make him feel better, Steve shared something deeply personal, and it’s that, more than anything else, that makes him feel comfortable enough to open his mouth and start talking.

“I was kidnapped,” he says. Steve jerks in the seat next to him, turning to him with a surprised expression. “I was fourteen. My… my grandfather had this business partner—Uncle Obie, I called him. He didn’t want SI to stop making weapons when my granddad wanted to, but my granddad owned the majority of the shares so Obie didn’t have a choice. He stayed on as CFO but he never stopped complaining about it. And then when I was fourteen, my dad gave him an ultimatum: shape up or get out. SI was having a bad year, the board was making rumblings about Obie’s constant comments, and Dad needed the senior leadership to look united. So he told Obie to fall in line or he’d fire him.

“Obie didn’t… take that the best way. Think Yzma dialed up to eleven. He decided that he wasn’t going to give up the company he’d spent most of his life with so he was going to force my dad to start making weapons again. What better leverage than the boss’s son?”

“Jesus,” Steve utters, blue eyes wide in horror. “He really…?”

“Yeah,” Tony says grimly. He can’t bear to see that look on Steve’s face so he faces the screen again. “He showed up at my school, told me he was taking me out for the day. I should’ve known something was up. Obie was on the approved pick-up list but he’d never used it before. I was lucky that Jarvis—our butler—was there to pick me up because he saw the whole thing, figured out that something was wrong, and called the cops. Obie didn’t have me for more than five minutes before the first cop cars showed up.”

“What happened?” Steve asks when he pauses.

He says simply, “He crashed. Lost control of the car and crashed right through the front of some bodega. Obie wasn’t wearing a seatbelt; he was thrown through the windshield, died on impact. They tell me that I was lucky. The glass pretty much ripped apart my uterus but at least I could still eat. I was fourteen. I didn’t even know if I wanted kids, but—”

“To have that choice taken away from you,” Steve commiserates.

“Yeah,” Tony echoes. He looks away from the screen. Understanding passes between them, both caught by the same pitfall in a society that deems children so important. “Exactly.”

He’s misjudged Steve, he thinks, which might be a harder pill to swallow if it weren’t for Steve making it so difficult to figure him out in the first place. He’d let himself be convinced by Steve’s aloofness last week, accepting his apology but figuring that it wasn’t entirely genuine. No one who’d truly wanted to be there would’ve actively run away from him, shy or not, in his opinion. But the man who’d showed up at his door tonight, who had let him into his heart and his sanctuary, who had distracted him and drawn him out of his shell, who’d told him something deeply personal so that he didn’t feel alone…

That’s the kind of alpha that Tony could fall in love with.

“I hope this made things a little better for you,” Steve says when he’s dropping Tony off.

“It did,” Tony says honestly. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Steve says with a shrug. The thing that gets him is—it really seems like he means it. He means that Tony can call on him whenever he needs him.

It’s heady, holding that kind of power over him, heady and dizzying. He falls like he’s caught in freefall, but he doesn’t have to worry because he can trust that Steve will be there to catch him. It feels ridiculous to think that when they’ve known each other such a short time, but Tony really, truly, feels like he can trust him, that Steve showed his true colors tonight—a safe place for him to land.

“Hey, Steve!” he calls when Steve is almost at the elevator, jogging after him. “Hang on a second, you forgot something.”

Forgotten something? Steve can’t think of anything he’s forgotten. He’s got his car keys, he’s got his wallet, he’s got his phone—no, wait, he doesn’t have his phone, but that’s because it was confiscated when he started the show.

“Wha—mmph,” is all he manages because suddenly Tony is a lot closer than Steve had realized, and Tony’s hands are on his cheeks, and his mouth is on Steve’s.

And suddenly, the pieces click together in his mind. He doesn’t want an omega like Tony. He just wants Tony.

Unbidden, his arms slide around Tony’s waist, pulling him in closer. Tony makes a soft, sweet noise and pushes him back against the elevator doors, mouth opening for Steve’s tongue to slide inside. Steve feels like fire is racing through his veins, lighting him up, burning him up from the inside. How had he missed it? Every time he’d admired Tony’s confidence, every time he’d thought he looked incredible, every time Tony did something that impressed him over and over and over again—how had he missed what it meant?

He remembers Dum-Dum laughing at him that he was in trouble on the very first night, Sharon telling him that it was okay if he wanted to actually be a contestant. He’d dismissed them both, hadn’t let himself think anything of it, but now…

Something dings, something that’s important—

He stumbles backwards when the doors open behind him, catching himself against the railing. Tony managed to catch himself on the doorjamb, smirking down at him. Steve can’t help but stare helplessly at him. Tony’s hair is mussed, his mouth kiss-swollen, he’s the most enticing he’s ever been, and Steve can’t help but sway towards him. His entire view of this show is being tilted on its axis, and Tony just smirks at him like he knows exactly what he’s thinking.

“Good night, Steve,” he says and then turns and sashays away. The doors close with another ding, leaving Steve panting at his own reflection.

Oh.

Oh.

Chapter Text

“Where did you go last night?” Justin asks, plopping himself down in the seat next to Steve in a move that’s probably supposed to be suave but just looks like he’s trying too hard. “I went by your room but you weren’t there.”

“Why did you go by my room?” Steve asks, turning from the window, where they’re flying over the Rockies, to raise an eyebrow at Justin. They’re not friends. They don’t even really get along. There shouldn’t have been any reason for Justin to stop by.

“I wanted to ask you a question,” Justin says airily.

Which, Steve supposes, means it’s his turn since that’s all Justin is likely to tell him. “I went out for a run,” he says flatly.

He can’t say why, exactly, he doesn’t want Justin to know that he went to see Tony, except that, perhaps, he doesn’t want to deal with the drama that will come from Justin knowing that he managed to see him but Ty didn’t. But that doesn’t completely sit right with him. Justin will undoubtedly make a big deal out of it, which means that everyone will know, and honestly, Steve doesn’t want certain people knowing that if they make Tony cry, the security team will make an exception for sneaking out to see him. However, most of the alphas still here are people that he knows would keep his secret if he told them where he went last night.

There is, of course, the argument to be made that no one else snuck out to see Tony and therefore they don’t deserve to know that Steve did. But frankly, Steve has never been one for punishing people like that. Besides, he has no idea why no one else visited Tony. There are any number of valid reasons that he can think of that might have made someone decide to stay in the mansion: packing, the logistics of getting to Tony’s hotel, having to recalibrate their own expectations for a relationship with Tony after last night’s revelations, among others. He can’t judge them for what they did.

He thinks, at the heart of the matter, is that he still doesn’t know what to think about yesterday himself, and he doesn’t want to share that until he’s ready. He went to Tony’s hotel last night just as a friend, wanting to offer up comfort, but in the course of one night, Tony completely flipped his viewpoint on him and on this show in general on its head. Steve has never believed that it was possible to fall in love with someone in six weeks while filming a TV show about dating thirty people at one time. And truthfully, he’s not convinced that most people do fall in love and aren’t just faking it for the cameras. But playing minigolf with Tony last night and talking to him at the Dine-In, Steve had suddenly understood everyone who insists that it’s possible—because he’d looked at Tony and seen someone strong and intelligent and beautiful and an entire future had unfolded before him.

And it had scared him. He’s a good bodyguard, a great one, even, if it’s not too prideful to say. He’s never lost a client on his watch. None of them have ever even been injured. And he’d done it all by playing by the rules—no drinking on the job, no distractions, and no falling in love with a client.

But now he’s gone and done it. He isn’t in love with Tony (not yet, his treacherous heart reminds him) but he could see it happening if Tony is as taken with him as he is with Tony. Unable to stop thinking about that kiss since it happened, he’d driven back to the mansion in a daze as it kept playing on repeat. He’d had no idea it was coming. Last Steve had known, Tony might have still been planning on sending him home after the disaster of a second week. Instead, he had kissed him. His heart beats a little faster just thinking about it.

Tony had kissed him, and it had been good and sweet all-consuming. He wants to kiss him again. He wants to hear Tony make that breathless noise again, feel his hands pull at Steve’s hair, wrap his own around Tony’s waist. He wants to make Tony laugh and smile and curl up against him as they watch a summer rainstorm. He wants to dance with him around the kitchen in the glow of the refrigerator. He wants a million things that he’d never once thought that he would want when he accepted Pierce’s offer.

But he wants to be a good bodyguard too, and he’s terrified he can’t have both.

Tony’s suite in the Emily Morgan Hotel overlooks Alamo Plaza, which is a weird view. He wouldn’t have expected to see such a historic landmark surrounded by skyscrapers in the middle of downtown. It must be like how people in Cairo feel looking at the Giza pyramids, he imagines.

“Tony?” Darcy asks, poking her head inside his room. “The alphas are off to makeup. We’re all set up for you in the plaza if you’re ready.”

Well, if the alphas are already at makeup, then he doesn’t really have much of a choice. He has to be ready. There’s a part of him that wonders what would happen if he said no, if he decided that he was done right here and now after the rose ceremony last night, but he’s not ready to give up on this yet. His dad somehow got through all of this; he can get through it too.

“How are you feeling?” Darcy asks him as they’re waiting for the elevator, Sharon a few steps behind them. “After last night?”

He raises one shoulder, shrugging. “As well as can be expected,” Tony says.

He doesn’t want to tell her about Steve, partially because he doesn’t know if Steve will get in trouble for coming to see him without the cameras… Mostly because this is something he wants to keep to himself. He hadn’t been expecting to end last night realizing that Steve is someone he can actually see a relationship with, and that scares him. By now, going into the fourth week, he would have thought that he already felt strongly about one particular alpha. Instead, he’s got half a dozen or so—plus the one that he fell for last night. Tony is excited about Steve, excited in a way that he hasn’t been all season, but he doesn’t know if it’s too late for them already, if they can get there in the next seven weeks.

That’s what he’s hoping for from this week—to find out if Steve is someone that he can really see himself building a relationship with.

“It was really shitty,” Darcy suddenly says while they’re walking out to the plaza. “What Pierce did to you, I mean.”

“Darcy—”

“No, I’m serious,” she insists. “You shouldn’t have been put through that.”

Yeah, well, if she’d really felt that way, then she should have spoken up when Pierce had done it. But he can’t blame her for wanting to keep her job. Pierce is notorious for firing anyone who disagrees with him.

“How are you feeling going into this week?” Coulson asks him once he’s in front of the cameras. There’s an odd look on his face, one that Tony would have called sympathy if Coulson ever had any expression other than mild interest.

“I’m…” Tony heaves a deep breath and runs his hands over his face, grateful for the heavy duty makeup that won’t smear. “Last week was hard. Justin interrupting and Ty being weird and then the rose ceremony.” He pauses, staring off into space for a moment, remembering how awful that ceremony was. “Mostly the rose ceremony. Yeah. But it’s a new week, and I’m so excited about the alphas that I get to spend time with this week. Everyday is a new day, right?”

“…Right,” Coulson says, looking less convinced, which is pretty much exactly how Tony feels only he’s trying to put on a chipper face so that he doesn’t have to do a second take.

Coulson asks him a few more questions, then Darcy walks up with the envelope that holds the first date card. She hands it over to him before letting him know that the alphas are on their way over. Tony nods and smooths down his hair.

Excited. He can be excited. And he is! About most of them. But he’s just so tired after everything last week. He fixes a huge smile to his face right as the alphas come pouring out of the Menger Hotel.

“Tony!” he hears them shout before they break out into a run, jogging towards him.

To his surprise, Steve is the first to reach him. But unlike last week when he paused and let Janet hug him, Steve throws his arms around him and lifts him up. He can’t help but remember last night and that kiss by the elevator, and a shiver races down his spine.

“Hi,” he says softly once Steve sets him down.

“Hi, yourself,” Steve says, giving him a warm smile.

Before Tony can say anything else, Sam is there, pulling Tony into his own hug, which is always nice. Hugging Sam is like the best memories of hot chocolate and watching Disney movies on snowy nights when he was a kid. He always has a good time with Sam.

Once the round of hellos have all been said, he spreads his arms out wide and exclaims, “Everything’s bigger in Texas, so of course, we had to bring the biggest season of The Bachelorette yet. Welcome to San Antonio!”

The alphas whoop and cheer.

“Now, tonight, your time is your own. Tomorrow—” He holds up the date card. “Dates start.”

Bruce plucks from the card from his hand. Tony carefully doesn’t look at any of them as he waves, gives everyone another round of hugs, and heads back towards his hotel.

“What are the chances of me getting time off on Thursday to go see that show at The Majestic?” he muses as he walks.

Darcy grimaces. “Not great.”

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got,” Bruce says, pulling the card out of the envelope. Everyone waits on tenterhooks, Steve included. On the one hand, he wants to spend more time with Tony. But on the other hand, he knows it’s probably for the best if he’s relegated to group dates. That’s his job. He’s not here to fall in love. He’s here to make sure that Tony is safe.

…But he really wants it.

Bruce glances over the card, eyes widening slightly. He looks up and says, “’Steve.’”

Before he can get any further, Justin exclaims loudly, “Steve?” He scowls, all but stamping his foot in a childish temper tantrum. “What the fuck has he ever done to earn a one-on-one?”

“What have you ever done to earn one?” Janet retorts, looking down her nose at him.

Justin splutters, but Steve can’t help but feel that he has a point. Was last night really enough to earn himself a one-on-one? He can’t deny that he’s excited though. Going to Monster Entertainment had been some of the most fun Steve has had all season, and it’s all because of Tony. He’s looking forward to getting to spend more time with him, just the two of them.

“I think Steve will do a great job,” Bruce says, also eyeing Justin. There’s something very dangerous in his voice that makes Justin duck his head and sidle away from him. “’Steve. Let’s take our relationship deeper. Love, Tony.’”

Love, Tony.

He doesn’t think anyone else has gotten that sign-off. If he’s remembering correctly, everyone else has just gotten his name. Steve wants to wrap his arms around himself and squeal like a teenager.

And then he wants to panic because this is all getting very complicated very fast.

Chapter Text

“I’m excited about Steve,” Tony says brightly. Now there’s a sentence he never thought he’d say. By the furrow that appears between Coulson’s brows, he wasn’t expecting it either. “We had a rough start, but he really impressed me last week.” He laughs. “Obviously or I wouldn’t have asked him on this date.”

Coulson opens his mouth, starts to close it again, and then visibly makes up his mind to say something. “Tony, are you sure about this? You were ready to send him home two weeks ago.”

Tony shrugs. The wind blows through his cream button-up, making it billow upwards despite being tucked into his slacks. “Like I said—rough start. But I think that Steve really showed that he gets me. I mean, no one else even thought of making the arc reactor. That feels pretty holding a boombox outside my window to me.”

He can see that Coulson is still confused, and he doesn’t blame him. Coulson doesn’t know that Steve snuck out to see him. Tony had already decided yesterday not to tell anyone about it in case Steve got in trouble for not bringing the cameras along. But since he hasn’t told anyone (and apparently neither Morita nor the bodyguards Steve had told have said anything either), that means that Coulson doesn’t know about Steve putting him first above the show or about him opening up about his own experiences or that kiss they shared. He doesn’t know why Tony’s mind has changed about Steve, seemingly with no reason. So Tony can’t blame him for being confused, but he does wish that he would just accept Tony’s feelings as valid without trying to dance around asking if he’s lost his mind. It makes him feel like a child.

Steve’s car pulls up only a few minutes later, Steve stumbling out of the car almost as soon as it pulls to a stop. Tony inhales sharply at the sight of him. Randi has outdone herself today. The alphas are usually dressed more casually than the omegas in this franchise, but that doesn’t mean that the rolled-up sleeves on Steve’s blue button-up or his dark wash jeans don’t look good. He looks damn good, and Tony can feel a blush rising to his cheeks as the wind pushes Steve’s collar around, baring just a few inches of his chest.

Steve looks up once the car has driven off, and—there’s no other way to describe it—his face just lights up. It’s a far cry from the nerves and standoffishness that Tony is used to seeing from him over the last two weeks, and he just knows that blush is deepening on his cheeks. There’s something about seeing Steve so excited to see him that makes his insides squirm pleasurably.

“Tony! Hey!” Steve calls, jogging over to him. He trips slightly on the uneven ground, but manages to catch himself and even looks adorable doing it.

“Hi,” Tony says, grinning, and steps into the hug that Steve offers. Steve’s arms are warm, his woodsy aftershave tickling his nose, and all in all, it’s one of the best hugs Tony has ever experienced.

Steve starts to step back but he doesn’t get far before Tony leans up and plants a quick kiss on him. For a moment, Steve stiffens but just before Tony starts to get nervous, he relaxes, snaking an arm around Tony’s waist to hold him there for another, more lingering kiss. Tony is the one to pull away this time, pleased by the red glow on the tips of Steve’s ears.

“That was—” Steve starts, voice cracking in the middle. Tony grins at him. He clears his throat and tries again. “That, uh, that was nice.”

Tony is delighted. Given that Steve had already admitted to being shy, he hadn’t really expected that he would turn into a debonair, suave rogue, but finding out that he’s still horribly awkward is an unexpected pleasure. There’s something so genuine about Steve’s awkwardness (now that he’s being open about it and isn’t trying to hide how nervous he is). It’s refreshing—and reassuring, knowing that Steve isn’t here to grab his fifteen minutes of fame.

Even so, he can’t stop himself from sliding his hands into Steve’s hair and tipping his head forward so his forehead meets Tony’s. “You don’t have to be so nervous,” he murmurs, so softly that it’s possible the mics don’t pick up on them. “It’s just you. It’s just me.”

“And half a dozen cameras,” Steve replies ruefully.

“Ignore them.”

“It’s a little hard to.”

“Then focus on me. Pretend that they’re here for someone else and focus just on me.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth quirks up. “I think I can do that,” he says and ducks his head to place a soft kiss on Tony’s cheek. He pulls back then, straightening up and looking around them. “So what are we doing today?”

Keenly feeling the loss of his warmth, Tony has to take a moment to steady himself. It’s insane, almost, how much Steve affects him. He’s not sure he’s felt like this kind of instant attraction with anyone other than maybe Ty. Natasha and Thor make him feel hot under the collar, Sam and Bucky make him feel safe, but Steve makes him feel both at the same time. Who would have expected it from one of his least favorite alphas just two weeks ago?

Once he feels more steady on his feet, he gestures at the sign and says, “Today, we’re exploring Natural Bridge Caverns!”

Steve makes the appropriate awed and approving noises.

“This is the largest cavern in Texas,” Tony continues. “And we get the opportunity to have not only a tour of the main cavern but the second cavern as well with a private tour guide.”

On cue, their tour guide, who Tony has already met, approaches. “Hi!” she says cheerfully. “I’m Kamala, I’ll be your tour guide today.”

“Hi, Kamala,” Tony says, echoed by Steve just a second later.

She shakes first his hand, then Steve’s. “Alright, we’re not doing anything too strenuous today, but you both signed your release forms, right?” She waits for them to nod. “Great! In that case, let’s go ahead and get started. We’ll be exploring the Discovery Passages first before moving over to the Hidden Passages. I do want to remind you that both cave systems are active systems, so please refrain from touching any of the limestone formations. Any questions so far?”

“Not from me,” Tony says. He glances over at Steve and raises his eyebrows. “Steve?”

“I’m good.”

“Great!” she chirps again. “And can I just say? You two make such a cute couple.”

Tony laughs and presses his side alongside Steve’s, who grins down at him and slips his hand into Tony’s. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Coulson watching them thoughtfully. But if Coulson has figured anything out about his one-eighty on Steve—or thinks he’s figured something out—then he doesn’t say anything.

Walking backwards as she leads them down the trail to the cavern entrance, Kamala explains, “Natural Bridge Caverns was named for the sixty-foot limestone slab that sits just above the cavern’s entrance. You’ll be able to see it right as we come around this bend. Now, this formation was created millions of years ago when a sinkhole collapsed underneath it.”

“Oh, wow,” Steve murmurs as the bridge comes into view. “There’s something you don’t see everyday.”

Tony has to agree. He’s not a huge fan of caves—they can make him feel claustrophobic—but the formation that spans the amphitheater in front of the entrance is breathtaking. Kamala beams up at it, clearly pleased with their reactions to the cave system she clearly cares about. And the tour only gets better from there. Kamala tells them about the discovery of the cave by four university students and how it was excavated before leading them inside. She leads them past jaw-dropping formations given awe-inspiring names like the King’s Throne, Pluto’s Anteroom, and the Valley of the Fallen Lords and points out the roosting places of Mexican free-tailed bats that still call the back corners of the cavern home as well as a small fern, which she tells them is the only living plant in the cavern.

The only thing that could possibly beat it is the Hidden Passages cavern, which, as Kamala informs them, was once called the South Passage. The second tour includes getting to see the shaft where the explorers had first drilled down in the 1960s as well as where they’d entered into the passage, called the Jaremy Room. As in the first cavern, Kamala turns off the lights to let them sit in the same darkness the explorers would have experienced. Unlike in the first cavern though, this one lasts a full five-minutes—or it would have, if Steve hadn’t reached over to squeeze Tony’s arm about halfway through, discovered him trembling at the oppressive darkness, and told Kamala to turn the lights back on.

At the end of the tour, they exit into a cavernous (pun very much intended), echoing chamber, which has been smoothed out into a flat space, which Kamala says is only possible because this area is no longer actively growing. She guides them to a series of stone steps and says, “Watch and enjoy,” before stepping back as an abstract light show depicting the formation of the cave begins to play on the back wall. It takes Tony’s breath away, just as much as seeing the bridge at the beginning had, not just with how gorgeous the light show is, but with the reminder of incredibly ancient everything around him is. He’s standing in a cave that’s existed for millions of years. It’s almost impossible to comprehend.

“Really makes you think about how small we are in the grand scheme of things, doesn’t it,” Steve says beside him, unconsciously echoing his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Tony breathes.

There had been some rustling going on behind them while the light show was going on. Tony had just assumed that the camera crew was doing something, but when he turns around, it’s to discover that the show now continues behind them as Actual Luke Combs has set up at the back of the flat area. Tony isn’t much of a country music fan but even he enjoys listening to Combs’ cover of Fast Car from time to time, and his jaw drops as he realizes the strings Pierce must have pulled to get a major celebrity appearance on the show instead of the usual minor celebrity that everyone politely pretends to know.

Actual Luke Combs winks at them and says, “This song is for all the lovers in the audience.” Given that Steve and Tony are the only members in the audience, it’s obvious that he means them, and Tony shifts closer to Steve to rest his head on his shoulder as Combs starts to strum on his guitar.

His day starts with a coffee and ends with a wine
Takes forever getting ready so he's never on time for anything
When he gets that "come get me" look in his eyes
Well, it kinda scares me, the way that he drives me wild
When he drives me wild

Suddenly feeling inspired, Tony looks up at Steve and says, “Dance with me.” To his surprise, Steve’s eyes widen in panic. “What’s wrong?

“I don’t know how,” Steve tells him. “I don’t—” He looks at the cameras.

Oh. He doesn’t want to look bad in front of the cameras. Tony can understand that, especially when Steve has made so many missteps already. It’s adorably endearing, and he slides his hand into Steve’s, squeezing it gently.

“I’ll show you,” he promises and tugs at Steve’s hand.

Steve, still looking apprehensive, follows him out into the wide space that’s obviously been left open for them to do exactly this. Tony steps in close to him, so close that they’re breathing the same air. He pulls Steve’s hand around to rest not on his waist but on his lower back and settles his own on top of Steve’s shoulder. Their other hands, still intertwined, he shifts in between them, the only things separating their bodies.

“Sway with me,” he whispers, and Steve does.

Beautiful, crazy, he can't help but amaze me
The way that he dances, ain't afraid to take chances
And wears his heart on his sleeve
Yeah, he's crazy but his crazy's beautiful to me

“Look at you,” Tony says delightedly as, now that Steve is growing bolder, he turns them in a slow circle. “And you thought you’d be bad at this.”

Steve blushes. “It’s just because you’re being so patient with me.”

“Or you’re a natural.” They’re not doing anything fancy, just spinning in place, but Steve hasn’t stepped on his toes even once, which puts him lightyears ahead of more than a few of the alphas Tony has met at galas. “What were you waiting for?”

“I don’t know.” Steve looks him straight in the eyes, sweetly earnest as he says, “The right partner, maybe.”

He's unpredictable, unforgettable
It's unusual, unbelievable
How I'm such a fool, yeah, I'm such a fool for him

And as Combs starts to sing the last chorus, Steve bends his head and sings along into Tony’s ear:

Beautiful, crazy, he can't help but amaze me
The way that he dances, ain't afraid to take chances
And wears his heart on his sleeve
Yeah, he's crazy, he's crazy, he's crazy
But his crazy's beautiful to me

Dinner is at the Palm downtown, just across from the Majestic Theatre and only a few blocks away from their hotels. While they’d been riding the conveyer belt up from the Hidden Passages tour to the parking lot, Darcy had taken their orders, so when Steve arrives, plates of calamari, linguine with white clam sauce, and black truffle filet mignon have already been set out. He spends a few minutes admiring the caricatures of famous patrons on the walls. Steve has never been much good at caricatures, and it’s an art style that he really admires. It takes talent to create something exaggerated but still authentically and recognizably the subject.

“Well, you clean up nice,” he hears and turns, smiling, to see Tony.

The sight of him absolutely just steals his breath away. Tony is dressed in a midnight blue woolen overcoat with silver leaf embroidery on the shoulders and sleeves and tiny black pearl buttons all the way down the front. The black leggings he wears under the coat gleam and shimmer under the low lights, confusing him until he catches the ever so faint metallic weave that’s been used in the fabric. His heeled boots give him just enough height that Steve realizes Tony won’t be able to fit under his chin the way he had during their private concert. He looks elegant, gorgeous, so stunning that Steve isn’t even surprised when a chef leans out from behind the kitchen door to get a better look at him.

“Wow,” he breathes, wondering how he could have ever missed really, truly seeing him for the last three weeks. “You look incredible.”

Tony beams at him. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Steve scoffs, glancing down at his own suit, a dark maroon that reminds him of what he’d worn during the first week. “I feel underdressed next to you.”

“Now isn’t that a thought,” Tony hums, eyes darkening as he looks Steve up and down.

“Not to interrupt,” Coulson says dryly, “but we’d like to get confessionals out of the two of you before your date.”

Steve would like there to be less interruptions so he can actually have a date, but Tony gamely follows Coulson back towards the host’s stand, so he bites back a sigh and follows Wong towards the kitchen.

“How are you feeling about Tony this week?” Wong asks without any preamble.

Steve blinks, taken aback by the abruptness. “Uh, great? Fantastic,” he amends. “Tony is… he’s absolutely incredible, you know?” He’s always thought that from the moment he saw him on the screen, but now that he’s really gotten to know him, he feels it in a way he hadn’t before.

“The two of you had a surprising turnaround from the second week.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s true. I didn’t make the best impression back then, I know that. I got in my head about it—” More like he was more focused on doing his job, but he can’t say that. He’s learned his lesson. For as long as he’s on the show, he’s as good as a contestant, which means he has to keep his mouth shut about his actual job while he’s on a camera. “I’m really lucky that Tony was willing to give me a second chance.”

He really is. He’s lucky that Tony opened the door to him after the rose ceremony and agreed to go with him to Monster Entertainment and was willing to listen to him share his experiences with infertility. His feelings about this whole show have been so confusing for him, but he’s lucky that Tony gave him chance after chance to get through them.

“You two really hit it off today,” Wong observes.

“Yeah. Tony’s great, really. I had a lot of fun today getting to spend more time with him.” All true statements, but they’re also statements that he gave at the end of their tour earlier. He’s not sure why Wong is asking him about it again or why Wong looks so put out at him practically repeating his earlier statement. “Am I supposed to go into more detail?”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Wong says, which has never made anyone worry any less about anything in the history of the world.

“…Okay,” Steve says doubtfully.

Wong checks on Tony and Coulson, the former eagerly detailing… something. It requires a lot of hand gestures apparently. Steve smiles, charmed to see him so animated. He’d really been worried that he’d never get to see that look on Tony’s face again after the last rose ceremony, but here they are.

“He’s so resilient,” he says softly, almost without realizing it. Wong is silent. “I don’t know if I could’ve done what he did this week, coming back from something like the last rose ceremony. He’s incredible.”

Wong is quiet for a moment. Then he says, “You’ll have to be vulnerable with him tonight.”

Steve wrinkles his brow. “What?”

“It’s part of the show. Every contestant has something to share. You’ll need to share yours if you want to get the rose.”

“But I—” Wong waits questioningly, and Steve shuts his mouth again. He has no idea what he’ll share when he already shared something intensely personal with Tony when they were at the Dine-In, but he doesn’t want to admit that he’d done exactly what he’d insisted to Pierce would no longer be allowed. That way lies opening the door up to other contestants doing that. “Okay.”

He'll figure something out.

It’s at that point that Tony starts back towards the table, so Wong reluctantly lets him go. Steve hurries back, reaching their table just before Tony and pulling the chair out for him.

“Oh!” Tony exclaims, eyes widening. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” Steve says firmly. “My ma would’ve spanked me—well, actually, she didn’t believe in corporal punishment, but she would’ve had very strong words with me—if I didn’t pull out the chair for any omega I was dating.”

Tony stares at him, then lets out a tiny laugh. “You grow more intriguing every time you open your mouth.”

“Is… that a good thing?” he asks, half-wincing in preparation for Tony to tell him that it’s the worst thing and he should expect to be sent home any minute now.

“Yeah,” Tony says with a funny sort of smile. “I think so.”

Dinner proceeds much as Steve would have thought it would other than that he has to keep an eye out for opportunities to be vulnerable. Tony tells him about his plans for Stark Industries and then asks him about being a security guard, to which Steve answers as honestly as he can while not letting anything slip about his actual profession. It’s easy to talk to Tony, so easy that he has to catch himself from saying something damning several times. He’s relieved when Tony asks him about his art instead, clearly remembering what Steve had told him about the murals at Monster Entertainment.

Somewhere behind a camera, someone mutters confusedly, “When did they talk about art?”

Later, Steve will wonder if this had always been planned or if it had been hastily thrown together because he and Tony had started discussing art. Whatever the case, a few minutes after Tony asks him his thoughts on the caricatures on the wall, while Steve is coming up with stories about the subjects he doesn’t recognize just to make Tony laugh, they’re approached by a young man clutching a sketchbook who asks them if they’d be willing to sit for portraits to add to the walls.

“It’ll be quite the story,” the starry-eyed artist exclaims. “The day The Bachelorette filmed here.”

Steve lifts his eyebrows in Tony’s direction. Tony grins and enthuses, “I think that sounds like a great idea.”

So they sit for a caricature. The artist had told them at the start that they could keep talking if they wanted, but Steve felt awkward continuing his made-up stories in front of an artist who may have painted the pictures. He isn’t making fun of anyone, just theorizing about the possibilities that may have led to their immortalization on the wall of the restaurant, but it still feels off-putting. And anyway, Tony has turned thoughtful, gazing out at the theatre just across the street.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Steve asks, following his gaze to the marquee. Apparently the San Antonio Philharmonic is playing a concert called Rock Goes Classical in a few days.

“Oh, I just—” Tony gestures at the theatre. “Wanted to go. But I can’t.”

Steve frowns, looking back at the sign. He does some mental math and comes up with, “Isn’t that on a day when we’re not filming? Why can’t you go?”

 Tony glances up behind him at some signal that Steve must have missed. His lips purse, and for a moment, Steve thinks that he isn’t going to tell him what’s stopping him from attending a concert that he clearly wants to. But then he straightens his shoulders, eyes blazing with some steely resolve—hadn’t Steve just remarked how brave he thought Tony was?

“I’ve been told to stay in my hotel,” he says coolly, keeping his eyes locked on whoever is behind Steve. “So that I don’t run into any of you while you’re out doing things.”

Steve lets that sink in, picking up on the implications that Tony didn’t say out loud. “You mean that we’re allowed to go out and explore the city but because it might—I don’t know—make you biased in the biased-towards-one-contestant show, you don’t get to do the same thing?”

“Find another topic, gentlemen,” Coulson warns.

“No,” Steve says promptly, twisting in his seat to glare at him. “I’m sorry but that’s bullshit. This entire show is supposed to be about Tony and what he wants. If anyone should have to stay in their hotel, it should be the alphas.” He wants to explore the city, it seems fascinating, but not if it means Tony is trapped inside instead.

“This is what Pierce has ordered,” Coulson says in that infuriatingly calm way that makes it impossible to deduce what he’s actually thinking. “It’s not up to us to decide to do our own thing. Discuss something else that we can show on cable television.”

It is when whatever Pierce has decided is fucking ridiculous, but Steve can accept that he’s not going to win this one right now. But he’ll see to it that Tony gets to spend some time outside and isn’t just confined to his hotel room if he has to sneak Tony out himself.

He looks back at Tony, surprised to see him holding up the rose in offering. He’d forgotten that this was something that was supposed to happen. He’d just been going about his day on this date, completely forgetting that this is technically a competition that he’s competing in.

“What?” he asks dumbly.

Tony snickers. “Will you accept this rose?” he asks, holding the rose out to him.

“I—what?”

“Tony, you need to explain why you’re giving it to him,” Coulson interjects, sounding for the first time like he’s exasperated with the two of them.

Tony shrugs. “Alright. I’m giving you this rose because I like you. You held my hand when I got scared and asked Kamala to turn back on the lights for me. You danced with me even though you were nervous. You’ve been an excellent conversationalist all night. Is it really that much of a surprise that I want to offer it to you?”

“I guess not,” Steve says faintly, still somehow surprised despite himself. It has been an excellent date, but he supposes that it still amazes him that Tony was willing to forgive him for his abysmal showing during Week 2. “Wait!”

Tony pauses, giving him a quizzical look.

“I need to say something,” he says, remembering what Wong had told him about being vulnerable. “And I don’t know if it will change your mind about offering me this rose.”

Slowly, Tony withdraws the rose, looking confused and even a little hurt. “Okay.”

Honesty, he reminds himself. As honest as he can be. “I didn’t come on this show to fall in love. In fact, I thought it was pretty much impossible. Falling in love in only ten weeks? That’s the kind of thing rom-coms are made out of, not real life.”

“And now?” Tony asks guardedly.

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully. “I still don’t know if it’s possible. But I look at you and…” He smiles helplessly. “I think it’s a lot more possible than I used to.” Tony is special, he’s come to realize. If anyone could convince him that it’s possible, if anyone could make him fall in love in ten weeks, he thinks it would be Tony Stark.

“Oh,” Tony says softly. “Yeah, I—okay.”

“So if you don’t want to give me this rose because—”

“No, I want to.”

Steve’s mouth shuts abruptly. Tony laughs and holds up the rose again. “Steve Rogers, will you accept this rose?”

And all he can say is, “Yes.”

Chapter Text

“Who do you think will get the other one-on-one this week?” Peter asks.

The alphas are assembled to receive the next date card in the Colonial Room restaurant at the hotel, which doesn’t serve dinner, thereby making it the perfect gathering area for this scene. Steve, as the only alpha guaranteed not to have a date tomorrow, is seated closest to the door so that he can grab the card when it arrives.

“It could be any of us,” Pepper says, gaze falling on Steve. He just knows that she’s thinking that if he could manage to get a one-on-one, then Tony could ask literally anyone. “But we don’t actually know what will happen. We’re assuming that there’ll be one more one-on-one, but it could be two group dates.”

“Hmm,” Ty says thoughtfully. “I hope not. I’m ready for my one-on-one.” Steve fights to keep from rolling his eyes at Ty’s presumptuousness. If they’re lucky, Ty might never get a one-on-one. He might be relegated to group dates right up until he’s eliminated.

If they’re lucky.

“A one-on-one would be amazing,” Loki muses, twirling the stem of his champagne glass between his fingers. “Most of us haven’t had one.”

The knock comes on the glass doors of the restaurant, echoing around the nearly empty space. Nearly everyone hisses in a breath as Steve gets up to meet Luis, then another one when Wong says that one of the pillars blocked his view and they need to reset for another take. Steve does roll his eyes at that—shouldn’t that have been checked when they first set up?—but obligingly takes his place again.

When he’s finally allowed to take the date card, he says quietly, “Thanks, Luis.”

“Hey, no problem, man,” Luis replies, clapping his shoulder.

Steve slides the card out of the envelope as he walks back to the group. “It’s a date card,” he says. Though he can’t tell at a glance, it’s a lot of names too, probably nearly everyone in the room. The last date of the week is likely to be a one-on-one. The thought sends a sharp pang through his stomach that he wasn’t expecting.

“Well?” Justin says anxiously. “Read them off!”

“Right. Sorry. ‘Sam, T’Challa, Justin—‘”

“Yes!” Justin shouts, jumping up and pumping his fist.

Steve gives him a cool look. “Are you done?” He understands that Justin is excited to finally have a date after being sidelined for two weeks but how does he seriously miss that he’s standing in his own way? Every stunt he pulls just makes him look like a bigger and bigger asshole.

“Like you weren’t excited to get the one-on-one,” Justin sneers.

He just shakes his head and goes back to reading the card. “’Nat, Janet, Wanda, Bucky, Bruce, Victor, Thor, Pepper, Peter, Ty. Lasso me a rose. Tony.’” As he finishes reading, he realizes that he read off every name but one in this room: Loki’s.

“Congratulations, Loki,” Sam says, though he looks disappointed that he doesn’t have the other one-on-one.

Thor’s face is a gathering thundercloud, carved from marble for all that he doesn’t even twitch.

“There we go,” Loki says softly. “I feel very honored to receive this one-on-one date.”

“My heart started racing a bit,” Ty says when no one else has anything to say about Loki’s date. “I thought my name might be called for a one-on-one. But, I must say, I’m excited. I’m a competitor, and I’m not afraid to get bloody.”

“The date card says, ‘Lasso me a rose,’ Ty,” Janet snaps. “We’re probably roping posts, not riding bulls.”

“I’m just saying. I’ll fight for Tony.” Ty laughs, flexing his arm.

Bucky sighs and scrubs his hand over his face. Pepper just visibly cringes.

“Alright,” Steve says, deciding that they’re done with this nonsense. “It’s late. If you’re going on a date tomorrow, you should get some sleep.”

“And what should I do?” Loki asks amusedly.

Too bad Steve isn’t in the mood. “I don’t know, Loki. Whatever you want to do.”

Loki holds up his hands and files out of the room with everyone else until it’s just Steve, his team, and the camera crew packing up their equipment. Suddenly weary, Steve slumps back in his chair, tipping his head back to stare up at the ceiling.

“Do you think that’s enough to get Ty thrown off the show?” he asks the ceiling.

“You know it’s not,” Dum-Dum says just as gloomily. “We’d try and Pierce would argue that he was obviously just kidding.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, thoroughly exhausted by the uphill battle they’ve been dealing with this entire time. If Pierce is like this with the rest of the production team, then he applauds them for sticking with him this long. “Whatever happened to us having final say?”

“It’s Hollywood,” Gabe says. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep an eye on him tomorrow.”

If only Steve could find that reassuring. His team is competent. He fully believes in their capabilities. But Pierce keeps hamstringing them at every turn. There’s only so much that they can do when Pierce keeps twisting everything they say and do to get the outcome he wants.

“Well,” Falsworth remarks, “on a much happier note, did you notice? This card wasn’t signed off with ‘love, Tony.’”

Steve frowns at him. “Is that a big deal?”

“Oh yeah,” Peggy says, perching on the arm of his chair. “Sharon’s made me watch every episode with her. Right around now, the lead starts signing everything with ‘love.’”

“Huh,” Steve muses, heart suddenly feeling lighter despite there being another one-on-one.

Tony has never been to a rodeo before. He’s sure there are plenty in California, it being the last, great destination of the wild, wild West, but he’s never come across any. And as for New York, even if there was one, his parents would never have dared to be seen at a rodeo of all places. Tony loves his parents dearly, but he knows very well that they’re exactly the kind of people who would have thought that a rodeo would be dirty and loud and beneath them.

What Tony is familiar with is the mechanical bull. There’d been one at his and Rhodey’s favorite bar at MIT, and he’d picked up more than a few one-night stands after proving his riding prowess (after Tony was old enough to reasonably pass for twenty-one during their grad school years, of course; Rhodey wouldn’t take him anywhere near a bar when he was actively jailbait). He’s delighted to find one set up in the atrium of the Frost Bank Center, where the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo takes place, and immediately proves that he’s still got it and got it well-enough that a couple production assistants’ eyes have glazed over.

“That’s great, Tony!” Pierce calls once he’s climbed back off of it. Apparently, he’s decided to take a personal interest in today’s filming, which has Tony wary of any tricks up his sleeve. “We’re going to have you do that again while the alphas are learning the ropes—” He chuckles at his own pun—“but we want you to mess up a few times. It’ll be awkwardly endearing.”

“Awkwardly endearing,” Tony repeats doubtfully. They haven’t portrayed him as awkwardly endearing all season. Throughout his childhood, he’d watched plenty of seasons take shape in his kitchen as producers, directors, and editors stopped by to get his parents’ thoughts on how to cut their scenes. Every bachelor, bachelorum, and bachelorette has two or three words assigned to them, and if a scene doesn’t fit in with that portrayal, it gets left on the cutting room floor. Some people are good-natured and charming, some are witty and confident, and a few have been demanding and exacting. Tony had assumed that his were meant to be wealthy and competent. Messing up on the mechanical bull when he’s already proven himself capable of doing it first time out doesn’t really fit with that.

Pierce levels him with a cool look. “Who has twenty-five years of experience on this show?”

Tony looks away, firming his jaw, but eventually, he has to sullenly admit, “You do.”

“That’s right. And are you questioning my twenty-five years of experience?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, sir.”

“Good boy,” Pierce says indulgently, patting his cheek. “Now, run along into wardrobe. I think Randi has a surprise for you.”

He’s hardly in the mood for a surprise after that, but when Randi pulls out sparkly black and silver cowboy boots to go with his jeans and off-the-shoulder black shirt, he can’t help but reluctantly smile. They just fit so perfectly, and he can’t deny that he has a stereotypical omegan love of sparkles and glitter.

“Thanks, Randi,” he murmurs, pulling the boots on over his jeans.

“Of course,” she says, tweaking his nose. “Don’t let Pierce get to you.”

Easier said than done, but he does his best to put it to the back of his mind as he heads into the large, dirt-filled arena. He can only imagine how much work must go into cleaning this place out once the rodeo is over next month. He’s pretty sure the San Antonio Spurs use this arena too, plus with the concert posters hanging up in the foyer, this place is definitely not rodeo-use only.

“Tony!” he hears and looks up, smiling. As turbulent as his thoughts are, the sight of thirteen alphas excited to see him is enough to lift anyone’s spirits.

“Hi!” he says brightly, only to take a step back when Ty, Sam, and Bucky pick up the pace in an effort to get to him first. “Please don’t hurt me.”

As always, Sam reaches him first, and though he’d raced to reach him first, his arms when he lifts Tony up off the ground are gentle. Tony laughs, squeezing him back tightly. “You look fabulous,” he says as he steps back, letting first Bucky and then Ty give him quick hugs.

“Don’t I?” Tony asks coyly, tilting his leg inward so he can show off his boots.

“Absolutely stunning, doll,” Bucky says, ducking in to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you! You’re too good to me.” He looks at the others. “How are you liking Texas so far?”

“I get what they mean when they say ‘everything’s bigger in Texas,’” Pepper says. “I went to breakfast this morning, ordered a waffle, and it was bigger than my head—and shaped like the state of Texas, of course.”

Tony laughs. “Yeah, I ordered a margarita at the bar last night. It came in a fishbowl. Now, I don’t know what you think of when you think of Texas, but I think about cowboys. It just so happens that we’re visiting right as the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo is going on, so I thought, for today’s date, it might be fun if put on a little rodeo of our own.”

He gets a lot of oohs and wows for that.

“Today, you’ll be competing in three events: barrel racing, calf roping, and the dreaded bull riding. I know most of you have probably never been near a cow in your life—”

“Speak for yourself!” Peter jokes. “I’m from Missouri!”

Tony laughs, “I said ‘most of you.’ So to help you out and teach you the ropes, so to speak, I’ve brought in a couple experts.”

On cue, two riders and their horses burst through the open barn doors at the other end of the arena, one holding an American flag as they ride to the left, the other holding a Texas flag and riding to the right side. This, Tony has been told, is usually what the rodeo queen does at the start of a rodeo, which he gathers is some kind of pageant winner, but it still makes for an impressive visual. The riders circle the arena once before pacing up through the center to where Tony and the alphas are waiting. They put their flags down in the designated poles and dismount to join the rest of the group.

“This is Ajak and her horse, Deviant,” he says, gesturing to the omega woman. “She’s a world-renowned barrel racer.” He gestures to the beta man standing beside her. “And this is Fandral and his horse, Rapier. He was a bull rider before switching to partners lassoing.”

“Howdy,” Ajak tells them warmly. “The thing to keep in mind about rodeo is that it’s a sport, just as much as football or basketball. It is, actually, the state sport of Wyoming, South Dakota, and, of course, Texas.”

“It takes its origin from Mexican vaqueros,” Fandral chimes in, “the predecessors of the classic American cowboy.”

“This can be a dangerous sport,” Ajak says. “It isn’t uncommon to walk away from a bad rodeo with broken limbs. People have been gored, and I know cowboys—good cowboys—who’ve been killed during a ride.”

Fandral nods somberly. “We don’t tell you this to scare you, but to make sure that you respect the sport. Now, we’d never put you on the back of an actual bull, but you will be riding one of those bad boys.” He turns and points at the mechanical bull a couple of ranch hands are pulling in. “We don’t wanna hurt any calves either, so for the calf roping events, you’ll be roping a robotic calf that we use for training.”

“You will, however, be riding a horse for both the barrel riding and calf roping events,” Ajak says. “How many of you have ever ridden a horse?”

Tony and about half of the alphas raise their hands.

“How many of you have ever ridden Western style?”

All but Peter lower their hands.

Ajak smiles. “Looks like we have some work to do. Why don’t we take you on back to the stables and introduce you to your horses?”

While the alphas are being matched with their horses by competent trainers and coaches who’ll make sure that no alpha ends up with a horse that they can’t handle (and that no horse ends up being ridden by someone who’ll inadvertently kill it), Tony is introduced to his own horse, a gorgeous palomino named Isolde.

“I didn’t think I’d be doing any riding today,” he says, stroking Isolde’s golden nose.

“It’s not much,” Fandral concedes. “But you’re our rodeo queen today, Tony. You gotta open the rodeo for us.” He produces a black cowboy hat from behind his back. “Complete with your own hat.”

“Thanks!” Tony says brightly. He sets the hat on his head and twirls for the camera. “How do I look?”

Fandral winks roguishly at him. “All those alphas out there will be panting all over you.”

“Perfect,” he says, satisfied with that outcome. “Alright, teach me how to ride.”

Fandral is eventually called away to teach the alphas how to lasso a cow. By that time, Tony feels like he has a handle on riding Isolde, though he’s much less confident about his ability to ride with one hand and wield the flagpole in the other.

“That’s alright,” Fandral tells him before heading out into the arena. “If you’re still not confident by the time we get to opening, I’ll ride behind you with it instead.”

“I like that idea,” Tony says immediately. Humility has never been a virtue of his, but even he can admit when something is well past his abilities. He doesn’t want to accidentally hit Isolde and make her startle. Falling off the horse wouldn’t just be embarrassing to him—it’d be television gold for Pierce, and he refuses to make himself look like more of an idiot than Pierce is already insisting.

Speaking of—“Tony, let’s get those shots of you on the bull!” Pierce calls.

Tony sighs and resigns himself to spending thirty minutes looking like a fucking idiot who can’t stay on a bull for eight seconds.

By the time the alphas have started their lesson on bull riding, Tony has been pulled aside for a confessional.

“I’m looking for an alpha who’s not afraid to get down and dirty,” Tony tells the camera. “But I also want someone who isn’t afraid to fall—or to get back up again. It can be embarrassing hitting the dirt nine times in a row.” It sure as hell had been for him while Pierce filmed him on the bull from all angles. “But I want someone who’ll be a good sport about it. Today’s kind of a physical day. It’s tough, both on their bodies and their minds. It's about pushing your body to the limit but accepting when you’ve been beat as well. I don’t want anyone to get really hurt today. My priority is for everyone to have fun and to be safe.”

He glances out at the arena where Ty is rocking his hips in time to the bull and flushes. “Never thought I’d find the rodeo hot, but here we are.”

“Let’s rodeo, San Antonio!” Hadley Barrett announces into the microphone as Tony finishes his ride around the arena and canters into the stables beneath the arena. He listens with one ear as Barrett continues, “I’m joined here today by a new friend, the host of The Bachelorette, Nick Fury!”

“Thanks for having us today, Hadley,” Nick says. “We just watched as our queen of the rodeo, the bachelorette himself, Tony Stark, finished his ride.”

“And what a beautiful queen he is,” Barrett says. “Let’s give him another cheer.”

The audience for The Bachelorette’s rodeo is much smaller than the evening event for the actual rodeo will be. There are plenty of people hanging around the fairgrounds for the stock show or the carnival, and some of them had even been roped into attending the rodeo, but in comparison to the nearly fifteen thousand people who’ll attend tonight, this audience is small. Even so, Tony can hear them cheering for him, and he flushes, proud of himself.

“Hey, I did pretty good,” he says as Fandral rides past.

“You sure did,” Fandral replies, leaning down to swipe Tony’s hat from his head and ruffle his hair. “Didn’t even fall off the horse.”

“Was that a possibility?” he asks, struck by the idea. He’d thought he was doing pretty well for himself but—

“’Course it is. It’s the rodeo.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Gimme my hat back. I have to get back out there.” He’s not going without it.

Fandral winks at him, rolls the hat down his arm, pops it up in the air, and catches it with a flourish before handing it back to him. Tony just shakes his head and puts his hat on. Typical alpha, always showing off in front of an omega. He’s certain that Fandral is throwing his metaphorical hat in the ring even though Tony’s dating fifteen other people and developing feelings for several of them.

“Was Fandral giving you any trouble?” Ajak asks him when he sits down next to her in the announcer’s box.

He shrugs. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Mm. Don’t worry about him. He likes pretty omegas, but he rarely means anything by it.”

He nods. He wasn’t bothered by it. Tony isn’t so fair-weather as to be swayed by some handsome alpha winking at him when he’s already committed himself to someone else (or rather, someones else).

Barrel racing is up first. This event, as Ajak explains to him personally and Barrett explains to the crowd, is all about speed, strength, and grace. The rider makes a cloverleaf pattern racing between three barrels within a sixty-second period. Five seconds are deducted each time a horse hits a barrel and knocks it over, so swinging wide enough to avoid the barrels is key, but swinging too wide can take just as long, requiring tight turns.

“Not that I expect any of your alphas to be particularly fast,” Ajak says thoughtfully.

Tony isn’t bothered by that either. They’re all new to the event, even Peter, who took a few years of riding lessons as a kid to keep his younger cousin company. He can’t blame them for being more cautious than speedy.

Ajak’s prediction doesn’t hold completely true once the event begins. It’s true that about half of the alphas are more focused on getting their horse safely and accurately around the barrels than on speed, but the other half are clearly trying to get the fastest time possible without worrying about the barrels. It’s a strategy that works out well for T’Challa and Janet, but Peter knocks over the second barrel and Justin knocks over all three.

Natasha tries the same tactic—speed over accuracy—but, and it happens too fast for Tony to see, either something spooks her horse or it stumbles when it hits a barrel. Whatever the case, her horse rears up on its hind legs, unseating her. Natasha hits the ground with a sickening thud that Tony can hear all the way from the announcer’s booth.

“Oh god,” he utters, rising to his feet. “Come on, Natasha, get up.”

She starts to get up a second later—at least she’s not unconscious, he assures himself—but yelps as soon as she puts weight on her left arm and collapses back to the dirt. Tony’s blood turns to ice in his veins.

He rushes down to the arena, hitting the dirt only a few seconds after the medics. Natasha is sitting up by now, having lifted herself up using her other arm. She gives him a wan smile as he kneels beside her, hands hovering uselessly in front of his chest.

“You didn’t have to come down here for me,” she murmurs.

He scoffs and looks at the medics worriedly. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Can you tell me where it hurts, hon?” one of the medics asks, ignoring his question.

“My shoulder,” she says. “I can’t lift it. I think it might be dislocated.”

“Hmm,” the medic says. “Do you mind if I poke at it a bit?”

She starts to shrug and then winces, lowering her arm back down. “Go ahead.”

The medic barely prods around for a minute, Natasha hissing through her teeth but otherwise making no noise. “Certainly feels dislocated, but I want to send you out for x-rays to check.”

All Tony can think about is her dancing. He feels sick. Pierce had been the one to mention the rodeo idea to him, and he’d approved it, but now, he wishes he’d refused. He should have seen this possibility. He slides his hand into Natasha’s uninjured one and squeezes it reassuringly.

“Thanks for staying so still, hon,” the medic tells her as one of the others cuts her sleeve off of her arm. “You’re being a real trooper.”

“Don’t worry about me. Dancers are used to pain,” she quips, but she’s looking at Tony while she’s saying it, and it feels more like she’s reassuring him that it’ll be alright. He appreciates it, but he wishes she’d worry more about herself.

When the paramedics arrive, he stays while they load her up onto a stretcher and walks with them to the back of the arena.

“Thanks for staying with me, kotenok,” she says.

He leans in and kisses her cheek. “Hopefully, everything’s okay.”

“Yeah,” she says, wincing again as they wheel her down the ramp.

Tony watches them go before turning back to Pierce and the cameras. Pierce is watching approvingly, and sure, it probably made for great TV but considering everyone else looks worried, Tony thinks he could have tried for some sympathy.

“Alright, let’s get a confessional from you about the injury,” Pierce says, “and then we’ll keep going.”

“What?” Tony asks incredulously. “We’re still going after this? Natasha is injured!”

“No one else is,” Pierce says. “I don’t see what the problem is.”

“No,” Tony states, crossing his arms. “I’m not doing the rest of this. We’re done until tonight.”

Pierce looks unimpressed. “Need I remind you, you’re under contract, Stark. If I say we’re filming, then we’re filming.”

“I have the money for any of your fines.”

“Does everyone else?” When Tony hesitates, Pierce grabs his chin and leans in, a sick, triumphant gleam in his eyes. “If you walk, I’m sure all of those little alphas will walk with you, but I’ll fine every single one of you for breaking your contract. Do you think Mr. Quill could handle that? Or Dr. Banner?”

No, they can’t, and Tony knows it. The worst part is that he could try to call his bluff, but Pierce isn’t the kind of man to make idle threats. If he says he’s going to do something, he is.

“Now, then,” Pierce says, straightening up, “if you’re done having your little temper tantrum, we have real work to do. How do you feel about Natasha being injured?”

Tony glares at him but has to admit defeat. They’re all bound by their contracts, and he won’t risk any of them being fined millions of dollars because he doesn’t feel up to filming anymore. “I’m upset,” he says eventually, trying to inject that into his voice. “I’m worried. I asked them to give it their all, but I never—” His voice wavers, adrenaline from the accident and confronting Pierce making him lightheaded—“I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I just hope Natasha’s going to be okay.”

“Good,” Pierce says poisonously sweet, patting Tony’s cheek just too hard to be gentle but not enough to be a slap. “Go back upstairs.”

And Tony goes.

It’s hard to get back in the competitive mood after that, but he does his best. Natasha was the last barrel racer, and they’d decided to have the bull riding next, which is interesting enough to catch his attention. Traditionally, Fandral tells him, bull riding is the last event of a rodeo as the most difficult, the most interesting, and the most iconic, but he and Ajak had thought that it would be better to wind down with the calf roping instead.

To be considered a successful ride, a rider has to stay on the bull for eight seconds with only the use of their legs and one hand gripping a rope. Use of the other hand or falling off the bull results in a no-score penalty. The ride itself is scored both on the performance of the rider and the performance of the bull. Most riders won’t make it the full eight seconds though, falling off the bull fairly early in, at which point it becomes a race to get out of the way while the bullfighters and wranglers get the bull back into its pen on the far side of the arena. It’s a dangerous sport, Fandral acknowledges, but a rewarding one.

Tony’s alphas, of course, are making use of a mechanical bull, not a real bull. They’re only receiving points based on how long they stay on, not on their actual performance. After watching bits and pieces of their practice, Tony thinks that if any of them stay on for the full eight seconds, he’ll be impressed. And indeed, none of them do, though Thor comes closest at seven-point-two seconds and Ty comes in second at six-point-nine seconds. To no one’s surprise, Justin comes in last, only managing to stay on for zero-point-eight seconds. Tony has to bite his lip so he doesn’t laugh.

Luis comes up to Pierce in between events and whispers something to him. Pierce catches Tony looking and says, “None of your business, Stark.” But Luis beckons to him, so Tony waits until he’s gone and then excuses himself to the restroom.

Luis is waiting for him just outside the announcer’s box. “So I heard from Darcy,” he says without preamble, “who heard from Rosita the medic, who heard from the paramedic, who heard from the nurse, who heard from the doctor, who—”

“Luis!”

“Right. Natasha will be back for dinner.”

“She will?” Tony slumps against the wall in relief. He’d been so worried about her.

“She had a simple dislocation, but it’s already been set. She just has to take it easy for a few days.”

Oh, thank fuck. He really had been terrified that she was going to be permanently injured because he thought something was a good idea. “Alright, thanks, Luis.”

He’s in a much better mood when he returns to the announcer’s box. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long.

Ty, disgruntled that he hasn’t won either of the other two events, is practicing with his lasso at the back of the arena while everyone else tries to lasso and tie their robotic calf. Ajak and Fandral had been right putting this one at the end because watching everyone try and fail multiple times to complete the event correctly is hilarious. Most of the time, this event takes less than two minutes, max, to complete, but Tony’s alphas are so new to the event that just lassoing their calf takes almost five minutes alone. Ty clearly doesn’t want to make himself look like as much of an idiot as everyone else does, so he’s practicing even more, which Tony can’t blame him for. He wouldn’t want to look like an idiot in front of several thousand people either, though willingness to do so is part of the point of this date.

He isn’t looking when it happens, busy watching Peter successfully lasso his calf on the first try, but one of the bullfighters supervising is suddenly shouting, “Hey!” And when he looks over, it’s to see Pepper, flat on her back, shoving Ty, who’s fallen on top of her, off. His lasso is hopelessly tangled around her legs, enough so that the same bullfighter who’d stopped them takes a knife to it.

Losing her composure for the first time since he met her, Pepper calls, “What the fuck was that?” after Ty, who’s walking it off to take his turn at the calf roping.

“Did you see what happened?” Tony asks Ajak and Fandral confusedly. It looks, from their vantage point, like an accident, but Pepper isn’t treating it like one.

“Looks like Pepper and Tiberius were going at it,” Ajak says.

“Did she walk into his rope? Did he lasso her on purpose?”

“I didn’t see that part,” she admits.

Peter is declared the winner of the calf roping event, T’Challa is declared the winner overall, and as Tony is approaching everyone to congratulate them on putting in a good showing, he overhears Ty apologize to Pepper.

“Didn’t mean to yank you off balance like that,” he says. “I was just trying to untangle my rope. I mean, you walked right in front of me.”

“Oh, don’t even try that with me,” Pepper snaps. Sam and Janet step in, both looking like they’ll separate the two if it comes to that. “I was nowhere near you. You heard what I said and you wanted to punish me for it.”

Tony wants to go over and investigate but Pierce wants him to take photos with the winners of the individual events and then with T’Challa. In the course of it all, he loses track of both Pepper and Ty. It’s okay, he tells himself. There’s still the evening portion. He’ll figure it all out then.

Chapter Text

Tonight, Tony is in a suit cut in the latest alpha fashion. While the lavender color and floral lace pattern ribboning around the jacket are very much an omega style, the cut itself is more akin to an alpha’s suit, and he’s glad that it is. It feels much more like armor like this, and tonight, he’s afraid that he needs it. He is going to get to the bottom of whatever happened between Pepper and Ty if it kills him.

The first person he sees when he walks into Southerleigh is Natasha. Her arm is in a black sling with red trim to match her dress (and Tony gives some serious kudos to Randi for coming up with that so quickly) but she’s smiling warmly at him and doesn’t seem stressed about the injury at all.

“Hey,” he says, greeting her first with a hug—mindful of her arm, obviously—and a kiss to her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” she says.

“Yeah? Not too much pain.”

“Not too bad at all.”

“Great.” He sidles on past her and takes his seat next to Sam, carefully not looking at either Pepper or Ty. He doesn’t know how he feels about that whole situation. From where he’d been sitting, he’d thought it looked like an accident—though, admittedly, he hadn’t seen much. But Pepper had clearly thought it was a deliberate reaction to something she’d said. If that’s true, then so much comes down to what she’d said. No matter what, after Natasha’s injury, he doesn’t think that Ty would have been justified in tripping Pepper with his lasso—she could have been seriously injured. But if she’d said something truly heinous, then he can’t really blame Ty for lashing out.

“I had a great time today,” he begins, which is mostly true. With the exception of the last few minutes, Natasha’s injury, and Pierce being… Pierce, he’d had a lot of fun. He’d learned a lot about the rodeo, he’d met some great people, and he’d been able to try out some things that not a lot of people got to try. “I know I said this earlier, but I really just want you to know how much it meant to me that you put your all into today’s group date. I know a lot of you have never participated in a rodeo before, I know some of you have never even been on a horse, but you gave it your best shot, and that’s all I could’ve asked for from you. So thank you for that.”

“Anytime,” Sam says, putting his hand on Tony’s knee and rubbing it. Tony smiles at him and presses against him for a moment as a couple of the others make agreeing noises.

“I’m really excited to continue getting to know you all,” he says. Alright, moment of truth. Who does he want to talk to first? Does he want to talk to Natasha first, check up on her and make sure she’s doing alright after her fall? Does he want to get straight into figuring out what happened between Pepper and Ty, which he suspects could take a while? And if he does want to start with Pepper and Ty, who should he talk to first? Will it seem like favoritism if he picks one first or the other? He could talk to both of them at the same time, but he’s worried that’ll just devolve into petty arguing instead of meaningfully constructing what went down at the arena.

He takes a deep breath and decides, “Natasha.”

“Yes?” she asks, smiling at him.

“You wanna go and talk?”

“Absolutely. I would love to.”

“Great, let’s go.”

Southerleigh Brewery doesn’t have any private rooms, but the production team curtained off a few areas to afford as much privacy as possible. He leads her to one of those back corners and waits until she’s been seated to take his own seat, carefully watching to make sure that she’s not in any pain.

“How’s the arm?” he asks once they’ve both gotten plates. He’s pretty sure it’s her nondominant arm, but it’s hard to tell. She’s used both periodically throughout the show.

Now that they’re away from the others, she’s more willing to admit, “It hurts.”

“What happened?”

She hums and tilts her head to one side. “I dislocated it. It’s not the first time it’s happened. Old ballet injury.”

Tony doesn’t know anything about ballet but he’d be willing to hazard a guess. “Probably wasn’t your fault either.”

She smiles wolfishly. “Of course not. My idiot partner dropped me during a fish dive he wasn’t prepared for. I’m lucky I only dislocated my shoulder and didn’t break my neck.”

He shudders at the thought. Not only can he imagine the pain, the fear, that must have gone through her, but watching her move is like watching poetry in motion and that’s just when she’s walking. When she’s dancing, she must be one of the most incredible sights on the planet. An injury like that—if it hadn’t resulted in her death—would have been a tragic loss to the ballet world.

“But you’re okay now?” he checks. “You’ll be able to keep dancing?”

She nods. “I’ll need to keep it in the sling for the remainder of the week and take it easy for the next few weeks, but I’ll be good to go soon.”

Luis had said as much, but he’s relieved to hear it from her own mouth. He doesn’t think that Luis would lie to him about it just so that they could keep filming whatever they wanted, but after no one stood up for him against Pierce’s lies last week, he can’t be sure. Knowing that Natasha herself has full confidence in her recovery makes him feel a lot better.

“Tony,” Natasha continues more hesitantly. She bites her lip, looking doubtful. “I feel that I owe you an apology.”

“What?” he asks, surprised. Out of all the people who have made today less than stellar, he would have counted her among the very least. She hadn’t chosen to get injured, after all.

“Last week, during the rose ceremony, I didn’t speak up and I should have.”

Oh. This is about Tony having to stand in front of nineteen people and tell them something painful about himself as four people turned it back on him.

“I was surprised,” she says, “that the production team would make you share it like that when you were clearly hurt by it, and it kept me from saying something when Rumiko and Sunset said those things.” And Christine, he adds silently, but doesn’t say out loud. She had been quiet enough that he was the only one to hear her threat. He doesn’t like thinking about it, so he doesn’t want to bring it up now. “It’s not an excuse, I shouldn’t have kept my mouth shut, but I hope that you’ll accept my explanation.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “I appreciate it.” And he does, even if part of him feels like it came too late.

“I wanted to let you know that you’re not alone. I have a low fertility count as well,” she admits.

“I’m so sorry,” he commiserates.

“It is what it is. I’ve never really wanted children. I’d much rather be the fun aunt to my friends’ children.” She smiles at some fond memory. “But I don’t want you to think that you’re alone or that it’s something shameful because it’s not and you’re not. I’m here for you.”

Tony can’t help but wish that she’d said it sooner, that she, like Steve, had come to him that very same night to share her experience. He’d needed that reassurance then, when he was feeling fragile and broken and defective. He still appreciates it now, but it isn’t the same thing as it was last week.

But he understands where her sentiment is coming from, and it still means a lot to him that she had shared her own experience with him even if it came later than he would have liked. Not everyone is ready to talk immediately, he reminds himself. Sometimes, people need time to put their thoughts in order or to put aside their own painful memories in order to sympathize with someone else.

“Thank you,” he says again. “It really means a lot to me that you would share that with me.”

She gives him a sympathetic look and cups his cheek. Unlike when Pierce did it though, her touch is gentle and loving. “Ty byl takim sil'nym, kotenok,” she murmurs.

And because she’s speaking in Russian and neither the camera crew nor most of the audience will know what they’re saying, he replies likewise: “Ya ne khotel etogo delat'.”

“I know,” she says. “No one does. But you always are, and that’s why I’m falling for you.”

He can’t help the smile that breaks across his face at her confession. It’s not the first time he’s heard it—not even the first time he’s heard it this week—but she can be so guarded at times when they’re with everyone else that it means all the more to hear her say it. His heart flutters when he thinks about her, beating faster when they spend time together, and he really likes her.

So he leans in for a kiss and says, “I know what you mean.”

Unfortunately, he still has to figure out what’s going on with Pepper and Ty, so instead of waiting for someone to come to him, he walks Natasha back to the main group. He’s had time to think about it now, knowing who he’s going to ask to talk to first: Ty. It’s not that he thinks that Pepper is the person in the wrong, but between the two of them, he feels that he has the stronger connection with Ty. He owes it to what they have and their history to hear him out first.

“Ty?” he asks. “Wanna talk?”

“Yes,” Ty says immediately, climbing to his feet. He shoots a look over his shoulder at the others, but from where Tony is standing, he can’t see what it’s about. What he can see is that Pepper’s lips purse and Bruce looks like a growing thunderstorm. It doesn’t make him feel good about his choice.

Once they’re alone, Tony asks, “How are you?”

“I’m great,” Ty says. He looks completely unconcerned, which is… interesting. Tony isn’t sure if he’s made whatever altercation Pepper and Ty had out to be something greater in his head and that’s why Ty is unconcerned or if it’s because he knows he’s in the right or if he genuinely doesn’t realize that this has the potential to send him home depending on how tonight goes.

“Yeah?” he checks.

“Mmhmm. How are you doing?” Ty asks, taking Tony’s hands in his and rubbing his thumbs over them. It’s a soothing, relaxing touch, and he finds some of the tension draining out of him.

“I’m doing good,” he says slowly. “But, I hope you don’t mind, I kind of want to talk about you and Pepper.”

“Right,” Ty says, nodding. “I didn’t know if you’d noticed.”

“I saw that the two of you were on the ground, if that’s what you mean. But I don’t know why that happened.”

Please say it was a misunderstanding. Please say that nothing happened, there was some kind of miscommunication, and they can all just put this behind them. He doesn’t want to send either of them home this week. He likes both of them. He has strong connections with Ty and Pepper, and he doesn’t want to have to question if either of them is unstable.

At first, that’s what it seems like happened. “I was practicing with my lasso,” Ty says. “Pepper walked in front of me, and I accidentally lassoed her. I don’t have great aim with it, none of us do, so when I lassoed her, I tried to untangle her before she fell, but I got myself tangled up instead and fell on top of her.”

Alright, so far so good.

“But then when I tried to help her up, she started cursing me out and pushed me back over. And then she clenched her fists and started to come at me like she was going to swing at me.”

What? Pepper tried to hit him? He can hardly believe it of her. She’s always so poised, so in control of herself. Out of everyone on the show that he would put as the least likely person to snap and start hitting people, she would probably be it. He would have put money on Peter being more likely to snap and Peter looks like a puppy dog.

“I didn’t know what to do, so I yanked on the lasso again and pulled her back down. It was self-defense, I swear.”

“Really?” Tony asks. He doesn’t disbelieve Ty, who’s been so honest with him this entire time, but it’s just so hard to believe.

“I never wanted to hurt anyone on this show, no matter how much they get to me.”

Tony had been nodding along, but that last part makes him pause. “Get to you? Are they deliberately antagonizing you?” If they are, then Tony needs to have a serious conversation with everyone about the kind of alpha he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Picking on someone because he has a deeper connection with them is not that kind of alpha.

“No,” Ty says immediately, which is good to hear. Tony hadn’t thought that any of the alphas remaining would do that (except for perhaps Justin) but he’d been worried for a second there. “But I’m really doing my best after our conversation last week to accept that you’re dating other people, and I’m really trying, but it’s hard.”

“I… see.” He takes a deep breath. The words should be reassuring, but the tone isn’t. It comes across as Ty wanting him to say that he’ll stop putting in the effort with everyone else and focus just on them. But he isn’t going to do that. He has strong connections with a lot of the alphas on this date. Steve really impressed him yesterday, enough that Tony can already say he’s starting to fall for him. He’s hopeful that Loki will do the same tomorrow. Tony isn’t going to give up on those for the sake of one person.

“I have a strong connection with you, Ty,” he says slowly, thinking each word through before he says it. “I do really care about you, and I want to feel confident in my feelings toward you. But then when you say things like that, I have to admit that it worries me.”

“Worries you,” Ty repeats, looking concerned.

“Yeah, because I still feel like you didn’t take what I said to heart, that you’re still thinking of yourself as the only person I’m dating and everyone else is just an interloper. It just feels arrogant.”

“I’m not—”

“Please don’t make excuses. Just tell me that you’re going to do better.”

Ty gives him that wounded animal look, but says, “I genuinely apologize if that’s the way you feel about what I said. I don’t want you to have to think twice about my character or who I am as a person. I am a great guy, everyone gets along with me. Today was just an aberration.”

Right, except that they’d had the conversation last week about Ty feeling threatened by the other alphas, and now he had an altercation with Pepper, accidental or not. So clearly today wasn’t actually a one-off.

Trying a different tactic to see if Ty will admit something else that’ll help his confused heart get to the bottom of this issue, he asks, “Have you had any issues with any of the other alphas?”

“Absolutely not,” Ty says. “Pepper is the only one who’s always been short with me and avoided me.”

Well, this is the first time that Tony has heard about any of this, but he supposes that it’s not that uncommon for contestants on this show to have personality clashes.

“Look, Tony, I don’t want to talk about her, but I have to be honest with you. At the mansion, I’ve seen red flags come up.”

“What?” Red flags? Like talking about wanting to own him? Barefoot and pregnant, no matter how biologically impossible? Like thinking that omegas shouldn’t have rights?

“She never talks about you,” Ty says seriously. “Not even while the cameras are around. Not once.”

Okay, well, Tony doesn’t want to be one of the bachelorettes who insists that every conversation has to be about him when he’s not around, but he can admit that, if it’s true, it does kind of sting to think that Pepper never thinks about him.

“She talks more about wanting to become the CEO of Stark Industries than she does about you. It’s really concerning to me, especially because I know how much you care about SI.”

“What?” Tony asks, genuinely hurt. He does care about SI. He’s spent his entire life learning the business at his dad’s knee, and he’s looking forward to the direction he’ll take the company in once his dad retires. If what Ty is saying is true, if Pepper wants to oust him from his own company… he can’t believe it. He’d thought better of her.

“Tony,” Ty says gently, shifting closer to him. He squeezes Tony’s hands. “You know that I’m crazy about you. My feelings have only grown stronger since the pageant. I just want you to know that I’ve told you nothing but the truth.”

“Three thousand percent honest?” Tony asks, heart sinking to think that Ty is actually telling the truth about Pepper. He still wants to hear her side of the story, he wants to believe that it’s not true, but Ty’s right—he hasn’t lied to him.

“Yes. I would never lie to you,” he replies solemnly. “At all. About any details.”

“Okay,” Tony says softly. “I… hear you. And I respect you, but I want to hear from Pepper too.”

“Alright, just don’t—don’t let her get to you. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

He pauses to grab a glass of champagne after giving a confessional about his conversation with Ty and downs the entire thing before heading back out to the main room. Ty isn’t out there, though Tony isn’t sure where he went to after their conversation.

“Pepper?” he asks. “You wanna go talk?”

“Of course,” she says, smiling thinly at him. He doesn’t know if that means Ty swung by on his way to wherever he went to tell them how their conversation went or if it means that she’s upset with him for talking to Ty first. Either way, he has the sinking feelings that this isn’t going to go well.

He grabs another glass of champagne.

“How are you feeling?” he asks when they’ve sat down. “I’ve never been lassoed before, but I can’t imagine that it’s fun.”

“No, it wasn’t a great feeling,” she agrees, then falls silent, clearly waiting for him to get the ball rolling.

Okay, then. “It was obvious that there was some tension between you and Ty out there,” he says carefully, feeling like he’s picking his way through a minefield. “I want to know what happened from your side of the story.”

“Hmm,” she says, and he hates that he doesn’t know what that judgmental hum means. He swears he’ll keep an open mind to whatever she has to say. He has a strong connection with her too. He doesn’t want to believe that she’s capable of doing what Ty said she did.

“Please, Pepper. I just want to hear what you have to say,” he begs her.

She nods once. “I don’t want to talk badly about Ty,” she says, “but I think you need to know the context. Last week, Ty expressed to me after the group date that he was thinking about leaving because he felt uncomfortable with your conversation with him.”

Tony rears back, surprised. Ty hadn’t mentioned that at all. If anything, Tony had walked away from their conversation a few minutes ago thinking that Ty felt even more strongly about him.

“During the calf roping event, I was talking to T’Challa about what Ty had told me, and I told him that I was worried he would try something else to manipulate you into ending the season early and choosing him.”

Woah, woah, woah, woah. Manipulate him? Ty isn’t manipulating him. He’s never manipulated him. Been arrogant, yes. Developed feelings quickly, absolutely. But that’s just how Ty is, how he’s always been. There’s been no manipulation going on here.

But Pepper is still talking, so he keeps his mouth shut as she says, “I said that I thought that if he was that uncertain of staying here, then maybe he should leave. Without warning, Ty threw his lasso around me, yanked me to the ground, and tackled me, elbowing me in the stomach.”

Well. That is completely different from what Ty said. It’s as difficult to believe her story as it is to believe Ty’s. He feels like he’s gotten to know both of them pretty well over the last month and he wouldn’t take either of them to be liars, but one of them has to be because these stories aren’t matching up.

“I talked to Ty,” he says, probing around one of the other issues that Ty had brought up. Maybe, if Ty had been the one telling the truth, he’ll be able to trip Pepper up. “He said that you’ve been frustrated with him the last few weeks.”

There’s a lot that Pepper could have said to that, but she says the thing he was least expecting: “I think a lot of us are frustrated with Ty. Actually, I’d hazard to say most of us are.”

“I’m sorry?” Ty literally just told him that he got along well with everyone except for Pepper, and now she’s telling him that no one likes him? His brain is only becoming more and more confused as this situation grows more and more tangled.

“The fact that he said he was falling in love with you after a week of knowing you,” she says, tapping her nails irritably against her knee. “We all thought that that was off. No one falls in love that quickly.” That kind of stings, he won’t lie. “Then the next group date, he tried to corner you, and when you wouldn’t do what he wanted, that’s when he came to me and said he was considering giving up because that meant you weren’t interested in him. That bothered all of us because you deserve better than that. Then, today, he tackled me and hit me in the stomach.”

“But that’s it?” Tony asks. None of that sounds like enough for everyone to have a problem with Ty.

Pepper sighs. “I don’t know all the stories. I think you should ask the other alphas about them because I know that everyone has their own grievances with him. But when you say that I had some tension with Ty, we all have some tension with Ty.”

“I see,” he says, but he doesn’t. It just doesn’t match up with what Ty told him. Someone isn’t telling him the truth here, but he has no idea who it is. Neither of them have ever lied to him, and he can’t imagine why they would start now.

“There was one other thing,” he says, deciding to move on to Ty’s last accusation. He’ll talk to everyone else and see if any of them saw what happened and can tell him the truth, but only Pepper can tell him about this. “And I won’t lie, this bothers me. He said that when you talk about me, you only talk about being CEO of Stark Industries, my company.”

Pepper’s jaw drops open.

“Which is kind of concerning because it is my company. My blood, sweat, and tears. And I won’t step aside to let someone else run the company.”

“And I wouldn’t expect you to,” she says decisively. She shakes her head, looking incredibly irritable. “That’s just like him, to completely misinterpret what I actually said.”

“Alright, so what did you actually say?” Please be something other than what Ty assumed. He doesn’t want to believe the worst of her. He wants this to be something simple.

“I was thinking about a future together,” she says. “And I said that I’d like to run the business with you. You know that I have a business degree, I thought that if it meant working alongside you as a team, I could put it to use.”

“So you didn’t say you wanted to be CEO.”

“No, I did. But I also said that I’d be CFO, Head of R&D, I’d even be your personal assistant, whatever role you wanted me to take if it meant doing it as a team. It was never about taking the business from you. I would never do that. You love it so much, I’d never forgive myself for taking something that you love away from you. It was always about wanting to work together.”

He searches her face for a long time, looking for any clue that she’s lying to him. But her expression is open—if still irritated—and earnest. He sits back, satisfied. Ty had misunderstood, thank fuck. He still doesn’t know who’s telling the truth about the events at the rodeo, but this, at least, is a miscommunication.

“Alright,” he says. “Thank you for clearing that up.” He doesn’t feel like he has clarity at all. “I appreciate you for giving me all the information that you can.” He definitely doesn’t have all of the information or else the stories would’ve lined up. “I’m going to use my time tonight to understand what’s going on.” Because he doesn’t understand anything right now. “So, thank you.”

“Of course. Let me know if I can answer anything else for you.”

“Can we get a do-over on today?” he asks, not entirely sure that he’s joking.

Pepper gives him a sad smile that says she understands what he means. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Today was rough,” Sam says when Tony sits down with him.

“Today was rough,” Tony agrees tiredly. He feels like he has a version of this conversation every week. “End of the day, anyway.”

“Yeah.”

“Look, I want to talk about me and you, but I still feel like I haven’t figured out what happened. Can you tell me what you saw?” Tony asks.

Sam nods sympathetically. “The only thing I saw was when Ty fell on top of Pepper and elbowed her in the stomach.”

“Fell?” Tony asks, seizing on that. Most of the story lines up with what Pepper had told him, but she had made it sound like Ty deliberately threw himself on her. “Not jumped?”

Sam hesitates. “I can’t say either way.”

“So you don’t know if it was intentional or not?”

“I…”

“I want to know your honest opinion. What did it look like to you?”

Sam looks away from him, and no matter what he says next, Tony realizes that he isn’t going to like it. Either Pepper is a liar or Ty is, but he doesn’t want to believe that either of them could be. Finally, Sam looks back at him and says, “I think it was intentional.”

“Ty has said, to my face, that he was going to tell you that he’s starting to fall out of love with you,” Bruce says, as brutally honest as he always is. “He said that he was thinking about quitting the show.”

“Those were his exact words?” Tony asks, heart sinking lower and lower.

“That’s what he told me.”

“Oh.” It hurts, he can’t lie to himself. He remembers how giddy he felt seeing Ty jump that fence and remind him of a playground promise made when they were children, how seen it had made him feel, how special and precious that someone would remember him all these years later. Ty had told him that he was there for him, just for him, and that he was falling in love with him. And to hear that one bad conversation had rattled him enough that he’d gone to multiple other people and told them that he wasn’t sure about staying on the show—it stings. It makes him feel small, unimportant… worthless.

“Tony, can I tell you my honest opinion?” Bruce asks.

He has to think about if it’s what he really wants to hear but tonight is about getting the truth. He promised himself that. “Go ahead.”

“I don’t think he’s falling out of love with you because I don’t think he was ever in love with you. From what he’s told me, I think he looks at this as a competition and he wants to win, and he’ll do whatever he takes to do that.”

“But you don’t know him like I know him,” Tony whispers.

“No, I guess I don’t. But can you really say that you know him?”

“I mean, I thought there was something off about him the first night,” Janet says, crossing her legs at the knee.

“You did,” Tony states, half-questioning.

“No one knew for sure that you were going to be the bachelorette until the night before. But he was ready for you. He had a whole thing prepared just for you, right down to a childhood promise. Who holds someone to something like that?”

He shifts uncomfortably. He had thought it was sweet, even romantic. “Pepper said that a lot of you have issues with Ty.”

“Oh, I’d say probably ninety-five percent of us do,” she says easily.

“…I see. And, uh, what about Pepper saying that she wants to become CEO of Stark Industries? Have you ever heard her say anything about that?”

Janet scrunches her nose up. “Pepper wants to be CEO? No, I’ve never heard anything like that. She talks about her work with your mom more than SI. She’d be a great CEO, though, if you ever decided you don’t want to deal with the business side of things. That woman could herd cats and make them like it.”

At the end of the night, he’s left exhausted and hurting. He hadn’t asked every single alpha about what happened at the rodeo, choosing instead to divide his questions up among them unless they volunteered information, but of the ones that he asked, all but one of them had said that it looked like Ty intentionally went after Pepper. Only Victor had said that it looked accidental to him.

He should take that as confirmation that Pepper was telling the truth and Ty was lying, but he can’t help but think of something that Wanda had said when he talked to her. She’d said that she thought that, hopefully subconsciously, some of the alphas were biased against Ty just because of their history together. And when he thinks about how long they’ve known each other, when he thinks about how Ty has never lied to him before, he can’t help but feel like maybe the truth is actually somewhere in the middle.

But then again, he doesn’t think that any of them have ever lied to him before. And if that’s true, then what does it say about him that he’s questioning their honesty now, when it’s his relationship with Ty that’s on the line?

“I’m scared,” he says, not looking at the camera trained on him, “and worried that I made a mistake. I really like Ty, and I feel—I feel like I owe it to the kids that we once were to give this a fair shot. But… the rodeo can be a physical sport, sure, that’s one thing, but it’s something else entirely when everyone doesn’t like him. It makes me really question our relationship.

“My head is still so full of questions. Who’s lying to me and about what? There’s something that I’m missing, something that would make all of this make sense, but trying to figure out what it is just makes my mind feel like mush. It’s been hard and exhausting, and I’m so tired. I’m ready to go to bed and try again tomorrow. I don’t know where I’m at right now, and it’s stressful. I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know who to trust anymore.”

There’s a new tension in the main dining area when he returns to it, stronger than the one that had been present when they first walked in. He has no idea what happened while he was talking to everyone individually, but he’d be willing to bet that when he watches the season in six months, he’ll discover that there was an argument between Pepper and Ty. He just doesn’t know if one of them admitted to lying.

“Tonight’s been really difficult for me,” he says frankly. The alphas gathered around him look like they expected that, nodding solemnly. He glances at Natasha’s arm, at Pepper, at Ty. “I want you to know that I appreciate every conversation I had tonight and for sticking with me while I tried to figure this out.”

“Anytime, Tony,” Sam reassures him.

“I feel like I really got to know a lot of you tonight,” he continues. It’s even somewhat true. He doesn’t know who’s lying to him, but he knows who would be willing to lie for whom. “But one of you really took the time to open up to me and put everything they had into trying something new earlier today, and that really meant a lot to me, that they were willing to be so vulnerable with me in their own way. So, Natasha—” He turns and smiles at her, feeling a warm glow deep inside him when her face relaxes into a smile of her own. “Will you accept this rose?”

She replies, “Of course, kotenok.”

Chapter Text

“So do we think it was deliberate?” Steve asks the evening after the group date, irritably glaring out the window at his view of the Alamo.

“Do I think so?” Sharon replies at the table across from him. The production team had seen fit to put Steve in a suite so he can handle any situations privately. He’s made use of it every day so he doesn’t have to go downstairs for meals and deal with any of the bullshit from the other contestants. He heard yesterday Justin attempted to trip Janet (Steve could have told him it wouldn’t work). “Yes, I absolutely think so. But can we prove it? That’s a lot less likely.”

Steve sighs, placing his head in his hands. “Let me guess. Ty’s denying that it was anything other than an accident—”

“And from what I saw,” Morita says, “there’s just enough plausible deniability there that, even watching it on replay, I couldn’t say for certain. Based on what we know about him? Yeah, he probably did hit Pepper deliberately. But the footage isn’t as clear. They’re all new to using a lasso, and she wasn’t standing all that far away from him.”

“Great,” Steve sighs again, rubbing his temples. “Pierce is going to tell us we can’t kick him off the show without definitive proof, isn’t he?”

“You know he will.”

“Whatever happened to us having final say?” It’s not the first time he’s wondered it, and it probably won’t be the last. Pierce has done everything in his power to limit the amount of power Steve’s team has if he thinks that it’ll make for a worse TV show.

Morita snorts. “I’d be willing to bet that we don’t even have that anymore. Everyone knows that he changed Tony’s contract and had one of his cronies forge his signature. Who’s to say he didn’t do it to us either?”

“Right,” Steve says wearily. He wants to remove Ty right now. He’s a danger to Tony and the other contestants. By all rights, Steve should be able to make a judgment call and say that he wants Ty off the show. But he knows that Morita’s right. There’s no way in hell Pierce wouldn’t fight to keep his favorite drama-making machine on the show, up to and including secretly changing their contract to his liking.

His alarm clock chirps, reminding him that he has a filming obligation in ten minutes. “Alright,” he says, standing. “Dum-Dum, I’m pulling you off contestant duty. I want you on Ty at all times. Every time he’s anywhere near someone else on this show, I want you there. Try to keep it lowkey; I don’t want him picking up on it and doing something drastic.”

“What, you don’t want him noticing he’s the only contestant with a bodyguard outside his door?” Dum-Dum snickers.

Gabe jokes, “That man’s so self-centered, he’d assume you’re there to protect him.”

“Guys,” Steve says flatly.

“You got it, boss,” Dum-Dum says, giving him a lazy salute. “Won’t let you down.”

“Great. That’s everything I’ve got for you. Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Sharon says knowingly. “Where are you going this evening? You’re dressed pretty nicely for a filming obligation.”

“Ooh! Ooh! Let me guess!” Morita says, giving Steve a shit-eating grin. “You’re going to see Tony.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says loftily and marches out the door, followed by his teammates’ laughter.

To be fair, he hadn’t intended on going to see Tony again outside of scheduled date activities. It feels manipulative to monopolize his time like that, no matter how much Steve likes him, when the point is to fall in love on the show. And it isn’t fair to the other contestants, especially after he put a stop to them sneaking out. Steve had kept the loophole for himself for security reasons only, not to seduce Tony.

But he’d kept thinking about Tony being confined to his hotel room instead of getting to see the city just so that the contestants could go out and see it themselves. That it had gotten to the point where he wasn’t even allowed to go see a concert that had a very low probability of running into a contestant is just ridiculous. He wouldn’t have blamed Tony for sneaking out, but Steve knows his team. They wouldn’t let it happen unless Steve had cleared it, so this is him clearing it. And if he’s tagging along because he enjoys spending time with Tony, well, that’s another matter, one that he’s not thinking about.

The production crew is set up in the bar for tonight’s filming. Loki is the only other contestant present. Pierce had wanted to make it look like they received the date card during the group date, so no one else is around. Janet had stolen Pepper, Natasha, and Wanda and announced they were going out for a girl’s day. Sam and Bucky have taken themselves out to the Pearl District (Steve had actually gone with them for most of the afternoon before he’d needed to return for his debrief and filming). Bruce and T’Challa had decided to visit the Witte Museum, and Thor and Peter went off to Six Flags. Everyone else had stuck around the hotel.

“Steve, we’re going to have you sketching at that table over there,” Coulson informs him once he’s visited hair and makeup. “Loki, you’ll come in, order something at the bar, and then join him. Ask him if the date card has arrived yet.”

It’s the most direction they’ve ever been given, more staged than anything else they’ve shot in the last month. Steve is surprised, feeling like this is more of a standard TV show than supposedly unscripted reality fare.

“Should I be drawing anything in particular?” he asks, feeling like it’s a fair question given the new directions.

“Whatever you feel like is fine.”

Steve doesn’t feel much like drawing anything in particular, so after a moment of consideration, he starts sketching out Tony. It isn’t the first time he’s tried to draw Tony in the last few days, who has a captivating and expressive face that begs to be immortalized on paper, but he never seems to quite get it right. Tony feels like he should be an easy subject but something about the way his eyes sparkle is just impossible to put down in ink.

He gets lost enough in his sketch that he’s genuinely startled when Loki folds himself into the seat across from him. Loki gives him an amused look, takes a sip out of a poisonously green drink that’s lined with some kin of glitter, and asks, “Has the date card arrived yet?”

“I would’ve said if it did,” Steve replies, not sure where to go from here since Coulson didn’t stop them.

“Hmm,” Loki hums, sipping his drink again. “How was your date with him?”

“It was great,” he says, unable to think of a better word. He’ll probably sound incredibly lame on the show when it airs, not that he really cares what anyone watching thinks of him. His team will make fun of him no matter how he looks. “Tony’s great. I hope you two have a great time.”

“Mm yes.” Loki looks pensive as he looks out the glass doors. “I hope we do as well. He’s an incredible omega.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, thinking of Tony arguing against his confinement. He suddenly remembers walking in on Thor and Loki’s argument last week. He still doesn’t know what it was about, none of his team has been able to uncover anything other than them growing up in the same region of Norway, but it still niggles at his mind. “You’ll treat him right, won’t you?”

Loki’s eyes widen, though whether he’s surprised Steve is insinuating he thinks he wouldn’t or just surprised that he would say anything out loud he can’t tell. “Of course I will,” he says. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Good,” Steve says firmly. A knock on the door alerts them to the arrival of the date card. Loki glances towards it, then back at Steve. He gestures towards it. They both know who’s getting the date tomorrow. There’s no reason for Steve to get the card.

Loki collects the card and comes back, sitting back down. He picks up the knife sitting on the table and slides it under the envelope flap, neatly flipping it open.

“’Loki,’” he reads, “’The perfect relationship is priceless. Tony.’”

Steve is more pleased than he probably should be that Tony didn’t sign it with “love.”

Dernier knocks on Tony’s door, pulling him away from the book he was reading. It’s fine, he hadn’t particularly cared for the book anyway. He’s only reading it because Ty had said it saved him, completely changing his life, but it seems unnecessarily pretentious and the main character is an obvious self-insert of the author who desperately wants to be told that it’s okay to cheat on his omega. Maybe he’d like it more if he didn’t keep thinking about the concert he’s going to miss.

“Yeah?” he calls, getting up and heading to the door.

“Someone here to see you,” Dernier calls back, sounding weirdly excited.

“Really? Who?” Tony asks, opening the door. He stops short at the sight of Steve in slacks and a white button-down, standing sheepishly just behind Dernier’s shoulder. Dernier waits for Tony to nod his approval of his unexpected visitor before repositioning himself closer to the elevator.

“Mr. Rogers,” Tony says, leaning up against the doorjamb. “I should’ve known.” Who else knew that Tony wanted to be able to go out tonight? Not to mention Steve is the only one so far who’s shown himself to be willing to break the rules.

“Hi,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hope I’m not intruding.”

“Well, unless you’re here to break me out, it’s not like I have a hot date or anything,” Tony says wryly.

“Uh, I actually am here to—break you out,” Steve says haltingly.

A delighted grin spreads across Tony’s face. “Are you now?” he asks.

Steve holds up three tickets wordlessly. It takes Tony a moment but then he realizes that he must be including the bodyguard this time around. That’s thoughtful of him. Tony feels perfectly safe with Steve, but it’s probably a good idea to bring Dernier with them. They hadn’t brought anyone last time because Tony had still felt too emotional to want anyone else to see him if he broke down again, but he’s feeling much happier this time (maybe still a little confused from yesterday, but he’s decided that the best way to proceed there is to pretend that none of it happened).

“Then I guess I have a hot date,” he says. “Hold on, I’ll get changed.”

“Okay,” Steve says as the door swings shut. Then—“Wait, did he just call me ‘hot’?”

Tony snickers to himself and heads for the closet. All of his clothes for the show are provided by Randi, which are collected at the end of each date, and he hadn’t assumed that he’d be going anywhere nice, so most of what he has is just sweats and t-shirts to lounge around in, nothing nice enough to wear to the orchestra. But fortunately, he already has the outfit he’ll wear for the evening portion of his date with Loki tomorrow: a forest green jumpsuit with trailing butterfly sleeves and a deep v-neck. As long as they don’t order drinks, running the risk of something spilling on the outfit, he should be good to go.

“Wow,” Steve remarks when Tony steps back out, eyes darkening. “You just brought that along?”

“No, it’s on loan,” Tony says, not wanting to admit that he’s wearing an outfit meant for another alpha. Something about it makes his stomach squirm unpleasantly. The very setup of the show means that everyone’s consented to him dating multiple alphas simultaneously, so it’s not cheating, but it still doesn’t feel right wearing this outfit while he’s going out with Steve. He wishes he still had the outfit he’d worn on his date with Steve to wear instead.

“How was the group date yesterday?” Steve asks as they wait for the elevator. It dings, and they file in, Dernier proceeding ahead of them.

“Exhausting,” Tony admits before realizing that he should probably be more tactful. It’s just so easy to admit things to Steve now that they’ve figured things out.

“Yeah, Janet took Pepper and Natasha out for ‘retail therapy,’” Steve says, grimacing. “She said they deserved it after yesterday.”

“Mm,” Tony says noncommittally. “I guess you heard all about it.”

“Hard not to. Pepper and Ty were both pissed when they got back.”

“So what do you think?” He genuinely wants to know. He knows what everyone who was there thinks but he wants to know what opinion someone who wasn’t there has. Maybe Ty or Pepper said something to Steve or Loki that might help him make a decision about what to do. He knows that everyone is expecting him to send one—or both—of them home at the rose ceremony on Saturday but he doesn’t want to send either of them home. He likes them both.

“Oh, I don’t really… have an opinion, per se,” Steve dithers while they walk out to the waiting car. The Majestic Theatre is only a few blocks away but Tony appreciates the car nonetheless. He doesn’t want anyone to see that he’s breaking the rules since Steve was thoughtful enough not to bring the cameras, first of all. And secondly, he’s not sure these slippers provided with the outfit will make it five blocks.

“No, I’m serious,” he insists. “I want to know.”

Steve sighs, and maybe Tony should take that as a warning, but he’s too satisfied that Steve broke to care. “Look, it’s not like I was there. You know that. So I can’t tell you if it was an accident or not.”

Tony’s heart feels like it stops. He can read between the lines there, and it’s not looking good for the outcome he’d been hoping to hear. “But you don’t think it was,” he says quietly.

“I mean… all I can say is that there’s probably a reason Pepper went out shopping with three other people and Ty stayed in his room all day.”

The implication being that Pepper has friends here and Ty doesn’t because Pepper is the kind of person who makes friends and Ty isn’t. Tony nods slowly. He’s already regretting asking Steve his opinion. He so badly wanted to hear from an outside opinion that it was an accident, that Ty and Pepper just had a misunderstanding but there wasn’t anything malicious going on. He wanted to feel justified in keeping both of them this week instead of feeling like he’s picking Ty over Pepper if he decides to keep him.

It's just—he knows Ty. Ty isn’t the kind of person to deliberately sabotage someone else. Yes, they’d been children the last time they saw each other, but someone’s personality doesn’t do a complete reversal like that. The kid that Tony remembers on the playground had never seemed to mind that they were each other’s only friend but he’d gotten along well with the rest of their class. There’d never been anything to indicate that he was possessive to the point of hurting someone else to get what he wanted.

Searching around for another topic so that he doesn’t have to keep thinking about it, he lands on, “So no cameras tonight, huh?”

Steve’s brows furrow at the topic change but he figures it out quickly enough, expression clearing. “I didn’t think you’d want them here after you told Pierce to go fuck himself.”

Tony laughs, somehow not expecting that kind of language from Steve’s mouth even though he’s heard him swear before. “Alright, fair enough. But if you’re doing all these things for me off camera, then how are the viewers going to fall in love with you?” The way I’m starting to, he silently adds to himself. It’s way too early to admit that he’s developing feelings for Steve.

“Sorry, am I supposed to care what the viewers think?” Steve asks, adorably confused. Poor guy. He never has understood how the show works, not from the very first day.

“I mean, the fan favorites are usually the frontrunners to be the next bachelor.”

“Tony, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m kind of hoping I’m not the next bachelor.”

Tony’s heart warms at the thought that Steve wants to be the alpha he chooses at the end of the show. Sure, all of the alphas want that (or at least, most of them do; he’s sure that a couple probably came for their fifteen minutes of fame), but after the rocky start between them, he’s so happy to get another reminder that Steve is here for the right reasons, that he really does like him.

“Either way,” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound too giddy, “you could get a lot of brownie points bringing the cameras along.”

They pull up in front of the theatre. Steve climbs out first and reaches a hand back in to help Tony out. Tony doesn’t need it, of course, but it’s still nice to have, especially when he’s able to tuck his hand into Steve’s arm as they start towards the entrance.

“I really don’t want the brownie points,” Steve says eventually. “I know whose opinion matters."

Tony smiles to himself, butterflies taking flight in his stomach.

Steve walks him all the way back to his hotel room after the concert. He’s so courteous that even when Tony just gives him a kiss on the cheek for a fantastic night, he doesn’t push for anything else, just swallows down his visible disappointment and turns to leave. It’s that thoughtfulness, the acceptance of Tony’s boundaries, that makes him feel comfortable enough to call him back.

“You want to come in for a few minutes?” he asks, jerking his head towards the interior of his room.

Steve freezes, one foot in midair. His gaze darts between Tony and the open door. He can practically see the gears turning in Steve’s head. “You would… be okay with that? It’s your space.”

Yep, and in this instance, Tony is very much a typical omega, uncomfortable with the thought of a strange alpha in his space. But Steve isn’t a strange alpha. He’s proven himself to be kind and considerate and respectful. Even now, he’s hesitating instead of pushing his way into the room and taking what he wants. Tony can think of few alphas with whom he’d feel safer.

Besides, if anything goes wrong, Dernier is only a shout away.

“Come inside, Steve,” he says and saunters back towards his living room, leaving the door open for Steve to make his choice. He turns on the TV to some cheesy Hallmark movie and smiles to himself when he hears the door close and Steve’s hesitant footsteps getting louder.

“You… wanted to watch a movie?” Steve asks.

“Not particularly, no,” Tony drawls. He pats the couch cushion next to him. “I just didn’t think you wanted the bodyguard outside to hear what we get up to.” Steve, halfway seated, freezes again. This time, Tony can see the nervous expression on his face, and he realizes that maybe Steve isn’t ready for anything beyond a kiss on the cheek. Tony hadn’t been planning on having sex tonight—fantasy suites aren’t for another five weeks, and he’d like to wait until then—but maybe Steve needs that reassurance.

“Hey,” he says gently, tugging Steve down until he’s also seated. “I’m not talking about sex. I just thought you might like some privacy to make out a little.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “A little?” he asks, drier now that he’s feeling more comfortable.

“Scout’s honor. I can even set a timer if you like.”

“You were never an Omega Scout,” Steve says.

“Guilty as charged. Do you want to make out or not?”

“You’re very blunt,” Steve says, but he doesn’t protest as Tony swings a leg over to straddle his lap. He fits his hands around Tony’s waist, fingers nearly touching on his back. Fuck but he’s got big hands.

“I’ve been told it’s my best quality,” Tony murmurs, feathering an air-light kiss against Steve’s lips.

“Hmm, I think those people might have been paid to tell you that.” Steve leans up and brushes another kiss across his mouth.

Tony snorts and kisses Steve for a third time, this time holding them there until he opens for him. He slides his tongue inside, moaning when Steve’s tongue meets his tentatively. Steve gasps and wraps his arms fully around Tony’s waist now, pulling him tight against him. He’s so responsive, Tony thinks, every kiss like it’s the first one to him. He absolutely loves it. No one’s ever acted like his kiss is electrifying them before.

He never wants it to end.

Chapter Text

“Mr. Stark!” one of the production assistants that he doesn’t recognize calls from across the river. “What would you describe as your perfect date?”

Holding a pretend microphone, Tony replies, “That’s a tough one. I’d have to say April 25^th. Because it’s not too hot, not too cold, all you need is a light jacket.”

He hears a familiar low chuckle and turns, grinning, to greet Loki as he crosses the bridge to join Tony on the stage. “You do an excellent Omega Rhode Island impression, my dear,” Loki tells him. Tony preens as Loki looks around thoughtfully. “It does look familiar.”

“As it should. It was filmed here,” Tony tells him.

“Was it?” Loki’s eyes widen. “I had no idea. Now, let me get a look at you.”

Tony twirls for him. Randi’s put him in a black romper today, though the sheer panel at his midriff makes it look like a two-piece. The bodice is decorated with delicate floral embroidery in a style that reminds him of rosemaling. The best part though is the sheer half-butterfly sleeves that fall from his shoulders more like a capelet than actual sleeves. Loki himself looks exceedingly handsome and very classic movie star in grey slacks, a white button-up, and a black jacket thrown casually over his shoulder.

“Absolutely lovely, dear,” Loki praises, pulling a blush to Tony’s cheeks. Loki’s smooth words combined with that gorgeous accent just make him so flustered! He swoops down to kiss the blush off of Tony’s cheeks, which, of course, just makes him blush harder, and then tucks Tony’s hand into his arm. “Where are we going today?”

“Well, I was in the mood for some shopping,” Tony says lightly, recovering his wits. As long as Loki keeps this up, he’s definitely getting a rose tonight. “So I thought we’d take a look around La Villita.”

“That sounds like fun,” Loki comments, leading him back across the bridge and up the hill into the shopping district. “I’ve never been before.”

“Me neither. I’ve been told it’s an excellent place to find Hispanic and Native American styles.”

The district is fun, made all the better with the incredible company. Loki is even more enthusiastic about shopping than Tony is, not that that would be hard. Tony is more interested in the cultural aspect of the district than the shopping but he knows what’s expected of omegas on this show. Loki’s enthusiasm is both charming and endearing, the hint of sweetness to the slightly too much suavity he’s shown so far.

Just as he had with Steve on their one-on-one, Tony is able to get Loki to dance with him when a mariachi band starts playing in the plaza. Loki is a much better dancer than Steve is, able to mimic some of the twirls and stomping claps that the girls in china poblana dresses are doing. Tony very much enjoys getting tossed in the air and spun around the plaza, but he still can’t help but miss the closeness that he’d shared with Steve during their dance.

About halfway through the date, Tony spots an exquisitely beaded bracelet that he falls utterly in love with. Perhaps predictably, the production team swoops in to make sure that Loki buys it for him, though they have to stop and do the whole routine all over again when Tony passes by the shop who was supposed to be this episode’s product placement without even glancing at the cascarones being sold.

In his defense, though, he had no idea what the brightly colored eggs were even supposed to be. Now, covered in confetti and head slightly aching from Loki cracking the egg over the top of his head, he’s not convinced that he likes the tradition. Still, he puts on a game smile and cracks his own egg over Loki’s head, even managing a laugh when Loki winces. It’s a shame that this will probably be aired over the footage of Loki buying Tony’s bracelet since this is cutesier but that’s good television, he supposes.

“You didn’t much care for that, I gather,” Loki says once they’ve gotten cleaned up and continued on their way.

“No, not much,” Tony agrees.

Coulson, behind them, sighs, but this part probably won’t be aired so who cares? The editors will have to cut out most of the date anyway. He’s well aware that the group dates get more screentime because of the drama. If he wants to have an inappropriate conversation, then he can. Pierce owes him that much at least.

“You did, though,” he says. Loki had sported a look of unholy glee when he cracked that egg, right up until he realized that Tony wasn’t enjoying it as much.

“Yes, well, I’m all for a spot of mischief,” Loki says ruefully. “It’s gotten me into trouble a few times.”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I’m just not sure that cracking confetti over people’s heads is a fun hobby, but maybe it’s just that I didn’t grow up in the culture.”

Loki inclines his head thoughtfully. “Perhaps so. Still, thank you for being game to try it—and thank you for walking away fast enough that I couldn’t buy enough to take with me back to the hotel and surprise the other alphas with them.”

Tony throws back his head and laughs, genuinely amused. He can just picture the look on some of their faces, ranging from amusement on Thor’s to disgust on Janet’s. “Probably for the best,” he agrees. “Wouldn’t make you very popular.”

Loki snorts softly. “I can hardly be less popular than Tiberius at the moment.”

Ah. Yet another reminder of what happened on the group date. He sighs. He probably should have expected this, given that no one knows he went on a date with Steve last night and has therefore already discussed what’s been going on at the hotel. The producers likely told Loki to bring it up at a good moment so that they could get a reaction shot of Tony finding out how unpopular Ty is, but honestly, he just wants to move on from it. Everyone has their opinions as to what happened, but Ty and Pepper are the only ones who truly know and their stories conflict. Without knowing who’s telling the truth, everyone’s speculation is useless.

But he knows that he’s expected to ask, so he plays along and asks, “What’s been going on with Ty?”

Embarrassingly, his stomach lets out a loud gurgle, reminding him that he hasn’t eaten since yesterday. He doesn’t normally get to have lunch during these dates, too busy on the actual date, so he usually stocks up with a big breakfast and has a few snacks throughout the day. But Steve had stayed so late last night that when Tony’s alarm went off this morning, he sacrificed breakfast for a few more minutes of sleep.

“Hungry?” Loki asks knowingly. “Why don’t we stop in here?”

Here is a local restaurant named Mi Tierra that purports to have the best churros in San Antonio. Tony has never had a churro before but when he finds out that it’s fried dough smothered in cinnamon and sugar—and, if he wants, filled with vanilla cream since it’s the house specialty—he can’t help but get excited about it.

Pierce would probably like for him to see how far he can deepthroat the stick of dough when it comes out but it looks so delicious, he doesn’t want to waste time with production shenanigans. He takes a bite instead, moaning at how good it tastes. Yep, this was a good suggestion on Loki’s part.

To his relief, the topic of the group date doesn’t come back up. He had carefully avoided mentioning it, hoping that in the bustle of buying churros, Loki would forget about it. Either Loki really did forget about it, which Tony doubts given how crafty he’s proven himself to be elsewhere, or he’d picked up on Tony’s unease and decided to drop it. Whatever the case, Tony is relieved, too stressed about the whole thing to want to discuss it with yet another person. Loki is lovely but he doesn’t exude the same inviting confidence that Steve does.

“We want to get a few establishing shots of you on the Riverwalk,” Coulson tells them once they’ve finished their churros, “and then we’ve got one more stop for the two of you before the dinner portion. It’s a bit of a walk, though, so we’ll be taking the vans.”

Given that it’s already getting hot and muggy by the river, Tony doesn’t complain about the vans, though he does regret some of his time with Loki being cut short.

The establishing shots don’t take too long. Production has them walk through a small garden, pose in front of a butterfly mural featuring easter eggs of San Antonio history, accept margaritas from the hostess of some well-known restaurant. Loki comes up with clever little backstories for the people they pass. More than a couple of the people on the Riverwalk boats passing by try to do crazy stunts to get the attention of the cameras, culminating in one man nearly falling in before his wife yanks on the back of his shirt and pulls him back into the boat.

“Some people were not born with the grace given to a rock,” Loki says serenely as Tony snickers. He feels a little bad laughing at someone’s misfortune, but really. There’s stunts and then there’s being so obsessed as to completely lose track of your surroundings.

Eventually, Coulson declares them to be good, and they separate to head to their final location. Tony is curious to know what’s up next, but that excitement curdles when Pierce—who’d been absent for the entire day—slides into the car next to him.

“Tony,” Pierce says, calm in the way that the Bolton Strid is calm.

“Sir,” Tony replies uneasily.

“Tony, I need to get your order for dinner,” Darcy says from the front seat, turning around and holding her phone up. “Do you mind if I ask while you two talk?”

“Uh, no, sure, that’s fine,” Tony says, not taking his eyes off of Pierce.

“Go right ahead, Ms. Lewis,” Pierce says indulgently. He sits forward in his seat. “Now, Tony, you didn’t talk to Loki about the events on the group date.”

“No, sir, I didn’t think that—”

“Do we pay you to think?” Pierce interrupts. Tony shuts his mouth, realizing the misstep he’s made. “No, we don’t. You’re paid to be vulnerable and to follow the prompts. The altercation between Mr. Stone and Ms. Potts is the only drama we’ve had all season. I expect you to capitalize on it. Act like you were shaken up by the violence. Pretend that you don’t know who to believe and keep on.”

The problem is that that’s exactly why Tony doesn’t want to talk about it, and he can’t resist opening his mouth again. “I don’t want—”

“I don’t care what you want. What matters is what I want, and I want good television. When I look at the dailies from today, I’d better see the two of you talking about the group date.” Pierce leans forward to rap his knuckles on the driver’s shoulder. “You can let me out here.”

Tony waits until the car has stopped moving again before slumping back in his seat. He scrubs his hands over his face, probably messing up his makeup but unable to bring himself to care.

“I thought you were going to run interference,” he mutters to Darcy.

“Sorry,” she says. “Turns out it was a prix fixe menu.”

Ten minutes later, when they pull up in front of the Grotto—some kind of art installation done up to look like a mystical cave on the Riverwalk—Tony doesn’t even have to pretend to be shaken up. He genuinely is, though not from the group date—from the conversation with Pierce instead.

“There, there, my dear,” Loki murmurs soothingly when he sees Tony trembling. He pulls Tony into his arms, running his hands down Tony’s back soothingly. “What’s wrong?”

He wants to tell him. He wants as many people on his side as he can possibly get since it doesn’t look like any of the production team are, even the ones who’ve known him his entire life. But he glances up at Pierce, standing behind Coulson, remembers the threat he laid against the contestants, and knows that he can’t say a word. He’s already risked too much talking to Steve.

“It’s Ty and Pepper,” he says instead and loathes himself for the approving nod Pierce gives him.

He’s still in a bad mood when Randi slips into his dressing room with a large garment bag while he’s getting ready for the evening portion. Frowning at her, he pauses in fastening a gold chain around his neck.

“What’s that?” Tony asks. He gestures at the green jumpsuit he’s already put on. “I’m already dressed.”

“Pierce wants you in something else,” Randi tells him, passing him the garment bag. “You’ll need to get rid of the jewelry. He’s going for a very specific look tonight.”

That look, Tony realizes as he unzips the bag to reveal a cream mere slip of a dress and dove grey leggings to go underneath it, is vulnerable. And it infuriates him because the outfit is beautiful. It’s not something that he would ordinarily wear in his day-to-day life, too soft and delicate for his work, but he’d be delighted to wear it on the show (and relieved that he doesn’t have to wear the outfit he wore out with Steve)—if not for the circumstances surrounding it. He knows the statement that Pierce is making here: it doesn’t matter that Tony already talked about Ty and Pepper, already did what he wanted. Pierce owns him for the rest of his time on the show and that means looking how Pierce wants him to look and talking about what Pierce wants him to talk about. This outfit says that Tony is ready to be vulnerable again, ready to cry and look ridiculous again.

He just wants a nice date with Loki without having to worry about politics getting in the way. Loki deserves his full attention, not stressing about if Pierce will get mad at him for saying something he shouldn’t have.

Randi arranges the cowl around his neck and checks that he doesn’t have goosebumps rising on the bare skin of his back. “You look lovely,” she says kindly, and Tony thanks her but he can’t help but wish that he was back in the green jumpsuit instead.

Mixtli is a concept restaurant that picks a region of Mexico each season and creates a menu inspired by the region. It’s an intriguing concept that, on any other day, Tony would be excited to try. Tonight, however, he just wants to grab a pizza and go back to his hotel room to sleep off the conversation with Pierce.

It’s frustrating how much he soured the day. Tony had truly been looking forward to getting to spend this time with Loki, but instead, he feels like his attention has been on everything but him. It just wasn’t fair to either of them.

“Tony?” someone asks him. It sounds like it wasn’t the first time they asked him either.

He looks up at Coulson, holding a camera in his face. “Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

He can tell that Coulson is genuinely concerned, and he appreciates that, but he can’t help but remember Darcy that afternoon and how she’d stayed completely out of the confrontation.

“I’m…” Exhausted, he doesn’t say. Disheartened, he doesn’t say. “I’m fine,” he settles on. He can’t tell Coulson how frustrated he is with all the drama on the production side of things. He’s the first Bachelor’s son; he’s supposed to be better than that. The drama isn’t supposed to get to him, and honestly, if it was just the typical drama that the contestants get up to, he thinks he could handle that. But when he has to take it from Pierce and the production team too, people that he thought for sure were on his side, that’s when it becomes too much.

Coulson opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Loki’s car pulls up. Tony fixes a smile to his face and clasps his hands in front of him, waiting for his date to get out. Loki is in a metallic green suit tonight over a black shirt and green tie with gold accents. He probably would’ve looked fantastic against Tony’s first outfit but the contrast is probably just as good.

“Exquisite,” Loki praises, catching Tony’s hand to kiss the back of it.

Tony’s smile turns a little more real. He can do this. He can set aside everything else going on and focus just on Loki. It’ll still be a good night. It will be.

“Not so bad yourself,” Tony returns, which isn’t entirely true. Loki is a very attractive alpha, and the suit is cut very flatteringly. The picture it creates is positively edible for anyone who’s into that kind of thing.

“As we all know, ‘not so bad’ is the best I can hope for,” Loki laments dramatically. He offers Tony his arm again. “Especially in comparison to you.”

Tony laughs. “Flatterer.”

The conversation at the table is delightful. Loki and Tony are the respective heirs to their fathers’ companies, which creates an easy topic to bond over. They both know what it’s like to have the eyes of the world upon them, though Loki’s company, of course, is smaller than Thor’s in the same industry. They both know how it feels to have so much pressure pressing down on them to keep their businesses afloat after the juggernauts of their fathers retire, not to bring shame to the family name, to make their families proud.

“To families,” Loki toasts, lifting his old fashioned in a toast.

Tony tilts his head ruefully and lifts his cocktail. “To families.”

They both drink deeply.

“I’ve never been to Jotunheim,” Tony remarks once their third course has arrived—wild boar on a bed of rice and dried chiles. “Is it nice?”

“It’s cold,” Loki replies. “But the fjords are beautiful.”

“Hmm,” Tony hums. He went on a cruise to Antarctica once and thinks of the bays they sailed past. He imagines it must look something like that. “Were you born there? I don’t know much about your family’s history.” It’d be crass to admit it, but whenever SI needed a shipping company in Europe, they’d always made use of Asgard Gold over Frost Giant. Howard had always said that he didn’t like Laufey Feoreson’s politics but never elaborated on that.

“Ah,” Loki pauses in taking a sip of his drink. “I’m afraid I don’t know actually.”

“You don’t—”

“I was put into the foster system after my birth,” Loki says quietly, placing his drink down. “I spent ten years there before a family decided they liked me enough to keep me placed with them. They had a son and they wanted a brother for him, but they were too old to have other children.”

Tony frowns slightly. He hadn’t heard that Loki had other siblings, and he knows that Loki is Laufey Feoreson’s son. It’s in his very name: Laufeyson.

“When I was fifteen, my birth father—Laufey—showed up on their doorstep and demanded me back. The adoption paperwork hadn’t gone through yet, so he had the right to do so.”

“And they let him?” Tony asks, aghast at the implication. Loki had said he was ten when he was placed with that family and fifteen when his birth father showed up. That’s five years to build lasting connections, to love that family as his own, to imagine a future where he was wanted and loved.

“Without even a fight,” Loki confirms. “They had my things packed up by the end of the day.”

“Oh, Loki.”

“I tried to contact them after that, just once, to tell them how… rough Laufey could be. He very much believed in what he called ‘tough love.’ And I wanted someone who would know, someone who would fight to get me out of there.” Tony can read between the lines: Laufey was abusive. His heart breaks for Loki, thinking about him in that situation. “They told me not to contact them again and then blocked me so I couldn’t.”

“Loki, I’m so sorry,” Tony murmurs. He stands half out of his chair and kisses Loki gently. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“Thank you.” Loki gives him another kiss before he sits back down. “I regret that my time with that family was cut short. I truly loved them.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Thank you for listening,” Loki says sincerely. “You make it easy to share with. I feel like I can tell you anything.”

“Oh!” Tony says, touched. No one’s ever told him that before. One alpha he dated even said that he was so busy oversharing about himself that he couldn’t get a word in edgewise (as it turned out, he only ever wanted to talk about his gains at the gym anyway, so Tony never put too much stock in his opinion).

“In fact, I hope you don’t think it’s forward of me, but I—” Loki pauses and looks down at his plate, smiling just a little. “I truly believe that I’m starting to fall for you.”

A smile spreads across Tony’s face. Admittedly, it’s not the first time he’s heard that sentiment so far, but Loki has been so real with him, so open and honest, that Tony finds himself believing the confession more easily than he had Ty’s that first week. He isn’t sure that he returns the sentiment just yet, not when he’s still seeing other alphas, but Loki still thrills and excites him every time they touch.

“I don’t think it’s too forward at all,” he says, fingers briefly brushing against the rose next to his plate. “In fact, Loki, will you accept this rose?”

The look in Loki’s eyes warms him to the core. “Of course I will, my dear. You hardly need ask.”

Chapter Text

Tony looks at the one-legged bodysuit hanging on the back of his closet door and despairs.

It’s a gorgeous outfit, he can admit that. The bodysuit has only one shoulder above the one leg. From that shoulder to his opposite hip, gold metal faux-Celtic knots stretch over a nude fabric. The rest of his torso and the leg of the suit is a satiny red fabric with a matching train that attaches at his shoulder and the opposite hip. Paired with a strappy red heel, he knows that the overall look is sleek and powerful.

And he’s never wanted to wear it less.

He doesn’t want to go to the cocktail party at all, if he’s being completely honest with himself. Unable to shake the feeling that something will, once again, go catastrophically wrong, he wants to just barricade himself in his hotel room and wait until the rest of the season is over. He wants to skip to the rose ceremony. Hell, he wants to just skip the rose ceremony altogether.

It’s so hard to believe that only a month ago, he thought that this would be an easy process. He would know who his alpha was immediately and they would live happily ever after. Somehow, he’d never thought about all the drama that comes with a Bachelorette season—or he’d thought himself above all that, that Pierce wouldn’t dare because he’s Howard’s kid. How stupid he’d been. If anything, that had just made him more likely to have petty, ridiculous drama. And it hurts that none of the people he’d thought would be on his side have been. At the most, they’ve offered pithy sentiments that amounted to nothing and thought that would somehow make up for all of it.

“Tony!” someone calls through his door. “Ten minutes!”

He sighs. “Yeah,” he calls back and pulls the bodysuit off the hanger.

The elevator in the Tower of the Americas makes Steve want to hyperventilate. He doesn’t like heights. He’s never liked heights. He’ll drive four days across the country before he steps foot in a plane, plagued by thoughts of being trapped in metal as icy water rushes in or fireballs going up in the sky or hearing the words “catastrophic engine failure” over the speakers. Absolutely not. But he gets on that elevator, and he makes damn sure that no trace of that fear makes any appearance on his face because he saw what happened with Rumiko and her fear of the water. Pierce already doesn’t like him; he doesn’t need to give him fodder for something else.

“This is insane, man,” Sam says when he follows Steve off the elevator. “Check out that view.”

Steve barely glances at it. It’s probably incredible, but he can’t bring himself to walk right up to it the way Janet is doing. He accepts his glass of champagne instead, nervously sipping from it.

“Steve!” Wong calls. “Let’s get a confessional from you.”

He nods and follows Wong into a corner. As soon as he sits down, Wong turns off the camera and says quietly, “You have to get yourself under control. Believe me, you won’t like what Pierce comes up with if he realizes you’re scared of heights.”

“I know,” Steve hisses. Clearly he isn’t hiding it as well as he thought. “It’s not like I can magically stop being scared.”

“Hmm,” Wong agrees. “Have you tried thinking of Tony again? You’ll get to see him for the first time since your one-on-one. That’s got to be something.”

Steve can feel his face relaxing into a smile. He doesn’t say that he actually say Tony the night after their one-on-one, just a quiet, “Yeah.”

“Oh wow. You do get dopey when you’re talking about him.”

“Hey!”

“Now, say something nice about the tower.” Wong flicks the camera back on.

“Uh.” Steve scrounges for something and lands on, “I’m glad to see that the view has distracted everyone. Some of the alphas are a little on edge from the Ty and Pepper feud during the group date. I’m sure it has to suck for Tony to have to deal with all this drama when he’s trying to focus on finding his alpha and not all these emotions going everywhere. I just hope that tonight is drama-free for him. He doesn’t deserve to have to deal with this mess.”

“How are you feeling about Tony after your one-on-one?”

He knows he’s smiling dopily again but he can’t help it. “I can’t wait to continue building a connection with him. I know I say this every time, but he’s incredible.”

Wong nods and gives him a thumbs up. “You’re good to go. Just keep your mind on Tony, and you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Wong,” he says and reaches up to touch the rose in his jacket pocket.

“If you don’t fuck it up.”

“…Thanks.”

And on that note, he heads out to join the others. “I’ll say this,” Ty is saying loudly, ignoring the tension in the room. “We should all continue to be ourselves going forward. It’s very important that we’re all very truthful with everything that we say.”

That’s rich, coming from Ty of all people.

Next to Steve, Sam arches an incredulous eyebrow. Janet’s mouth has dropped slightly open. Pepper’s entire face is screwed up in disgust and quiet fury. Even Justin looks like he just wants to tell Ty to shut up.

“With that being said, this is definitely about Tony,” Ty continues. “No doubt about it.”

Right on cue, the elevator chimes. Tony has arrived.

He seems subdued when he gets out of the elevator, his smile dimmer than the one Steve is rapidly becoming addicted to. He looks absolutely breathtakingly stunning, but it’s clear that he’s exhausted. At first, Steve thinks that maybe he’s imagining it due to his own unease about being this high off the ground but then Sam asks, “Are you okay?”

If Steve hadn’t been watching for it, he would have missed the quick glance Tony gives one of the cameras before straightening ever so slightly and flashing Sam a much brighter grin. “Of course,” he replies. “I just didn’t get as much sleep as I normally like to.” Is that the truth? And, if so, was it concerns over the Ty and Pepper drama? Or is there something else going on? “But thanks for checking. How are all of you doing tonight?”

“Good,” Steve says firmly along with pretty much everyone else.

Bruce hands Tony a flute. “That’s for you.”

“Thank you,” Tony says, giving him another smile. “I won’t lie to you. This week has been a hard week. It’s made me question some people’s characters. I asked for all of you to be honest with me, so that I could be honest with you. But I’m worried that at least one of you isn’t being honest with me. I don’t know how tonight will go. I hope that you can keep opening up to me so I can have more clarity on how to move forward. Let’s have a great night and continue on this crazy, fun journey to love together. Cheers?”

“Cheers,” everyone says, raising their flutes together.

“Tony? Can I?” Bucky asks, gesturing off to one of the private rooms.

“Yeah, of course,” Tony says, joining him. Bucky’s hand drops down to his back, guiding him away.

Steve exhales slowly. And so it begins.

Ordinarily, there’d probably be a table and chairs in this room, just like there is out in the main dining area, but for tonight, those have all been cleared away to leave room for a much lower table and a couch facing the floor-to-ceiling windows. Imperceptibly slow, the room rotates, giving them a spectacular view of the Alamo at night. Bucky guides Tony over to the couch, letting him sit down first before joining him. His arm falls around Tony’s shoulders, pulling him in closer until their foreheads touch.

“You look so amazing tonight,” Bucky murmurs. “Fuck, you look beautiful every night, but baby doll, I just want you to know that red is definitely your color.”

Tony still wants to curl up back in his hotel room, but he laughs and blushes, nudging his nose against Bucky’s. “You’re so sweet,” he says. “I’m loving the floral pattern on you.”

“Yeah? Justin said it was too omega, but I think any alpha should be able to rock a floral suit.”

He laughs again and gives Bucky a quick kiss. “Justin’s definitely wrong. You look incredible.”

“I know,” Bucky replies, faux-arrogantly as he tosses his head.

“Oh, well, if you’re going to be like that,” Tony teases, pretending to move away.

“No, doll, come back here,” Bucky croons, pulling him back in. Tony goes easily, as comfortable with Bucky as he always is.

“If you insist. Did you want to talk about something or do you just want to cuddle for a few minutes?”

“I would love to cuddle for a few minutes, but,” Bucky begins. “I’m hoping you’ll hear me out here.”

“…Okay?”

“I know that this isn’t how it goes normally, but I just want to ask you something, I guess.”

Somewhat alarmed by the cagey way Bucky is going about asking whatever it is, he leans back and asks, “Is it a bad thing?”

“No! Geez, I’m overhyping this too much, aren’t I?”

“You think?” he exclaims, eyebrows shooting up to nearly his hairline. “What are you asking me?”

“I’m sorry!” Bucky laughs. “I told you I don’t have time for bullshit. I just want to be intentional and direct with you. No misunderstandings.” Tony can get behind that, especially after the week he’s had. “All I wanted to do was officially ask if you wanted to be my boyfriend. I promise I’m okay with you dating fourteen other alphas at the same time.”

A delighted grin spreads across Tony’s face. It’s so high school but he loves it. The question is sweet and sincere, and it just makes him want to whip out a piece of paper and write ‘Do you like me? Check yes or no.”

“Is that all?” he teases.

“Yeah, that’s all,” Bucky replies, grinning back now that it’s clear Tony is responding well to it.

“Well, then,” Tony begins, trying to keep a straight face but completely incapable of managing it. “I would love to be your boyfriend.”

“Yeah?” Bucky is barely able to get the word out around how wide he’s smiling.

“Yeah.”

“Okay then! We’re official!”

Tony laughs and pecks Bucky’s cheek. “How cool is that?”

“Just the coolest.”

“I think we all can all agree that I’ve had the least amount of one-on-one time with Tony for whatever reason,” Justin says while Tony is talking to Victor.

“Ooh I know this one!” Janet says brightly. “It’s because you’re the worst.”

Justin glares at her and sniffs haughtily, but the effect is ruined by the fact that pretty much everyone else, including the few people who actually get along with him, is snickering. Steve waits to see if he’ll need to step in but Justin appears to decide that he’s going to take the high road, such as it is when he’s taken the low road every other time.

“Because of that,” he says pointedly, “I deserve to have the most amount of uninterrupted one-on-one time with Tony tonight. You need to give me that.”

“You think so, do you?” Peter says flatly, and Steve has to agree with him. As the two people who were cut short by Justin last week, it feels hypocritical listening to him whine about wanting uninterrupted time. “What makes you think that you’re so deserving of it?”

“Uh, let me think,” Justin retorts, “I’ve barely had any. How is Tony going to know to keep me on this week if I don’t get to talk to him?”

“He won’t,” Janet says. “And I don’t see how that’s our problem.”

Justin huffs, crossing his arms. He attempts to square up with Janet but, despite being nearly a foot shorter than him, her larger-than-life presence easily makes him back down. Unsurprisingly, he resorts to threats instead: “I’ll make it everyone’s problem if I go home tonight because of this. I’m going to get a rose tonight even if it’s a fucking pity rose.”

“Oh, so you think you’re going home tonight?” Janet asks sweetly.

“I didn’t say that!”

Steve closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Part of him thinks that this argument is just being manufactured by all three of them for the sake of drama. The rest of him is unfortunately aware that this is all too real, that Justin is either genuinely delusional about his prospects tonight or that he sincerely believes that it’s everyone else’s fault that he’s going home.

“Tony doesn’t give out pity roses,” Peter interjects. “He’s not stupid enough to be swayed by that.”

Steve privately agrees with him, and Justin must think so too because he hastily says, “It was just an example. I just don’t want to look back and have regrets over things that should have been said or done. I have to do what I feel is best for me.”

“And what about the rest of us?” Janet asks. “How do we factor into this—very ‘me’ centered, might I add—plan of yours?”

“You don’t,” Justin says bluntly. He tucks his hands behind his head and leans back in his seat. “I hate to say it, but you guys don’t matter. It’s about me and Tony’s relationship, not yours.”

“But if it’s just a giant free-for-all, then how does anyone get anywhere?” Peter asks, eyes widening in a mockery of innocence. “If it’s just about our relationship with Tony, then shouldn’t we all be interrupting each other left and right?”

“Exactly,” Justin says, looking very satisfied with himself now that someone else has gotten his point. “That’s why I interrupted you and Steve, no offense.”

“No, I think I will take offense,” Peter says, brows coming together angrily. “Because, see, you’re saying this, but then you’re turning around and demanding that we give you as much time to talk to Tony as you want because somehow, it’s fair that you get to interrupt us but we don’t get to interrupt you.”

“Hey, now, that’s misrepresenting—”

“But that’s what you said,” Peter pushes. “You told us that you deserve uninterrupted time, but the only way you get that is if we agree to give that to you, which is really fucking rich of you to ask after that stunt last week.” He’s breathing hard through his nose by the end of it, fists clenched furiously.

“Hey,” Steve says mildly, seeing this rapidly devolving. “Let’s all take a moment to calm down.”

“You’re not mad?” Peter demands, whirling on him. “After he ruined our chances to talk to Tony on the group date last week?”

Steve pauses, assessing Peter’s mood and the best way to deflate the situation, then says, “Of course I’m mad. But that was last week. He’s going to do whatever he wants, and if you keep rising to his bait, you’ll make Tony think that you can’t handle any kind of pressure and get yourself thrown off too.”

He wishes he could just say that it’s petty to lower their standards to Justin’s but he doesn’t think Peter’s at a point to hear that just yet. So instead, he’ll use Tony as an example even though he hates reducing him to that.

“Thank you!” Justin exclaims, gesturing to him. “Finally, someone who sees—”

“Just don’t, Justin,” Steve says tiredly. “No one wants to hear it.”

Justin makes an offended noise, but when no one steps up to defend him, he finally realizes that he has no friends here and stalks off to glare broodily out the windows.

“I hate that guy,” Peter mutters, answered with emphatic agreement from most of the others.

Steve, however, keeps silent, realizing with a sinking heart that it’s very likely tonight will be every bit as dramatic as the last rose ceremony.

“May I ask for a hug?” Thor asks respectfully when he joins Tony.

“Absolutely,” Tony says warmly, holding his arms out. Thor’s hug is no longer so backbreaking as it once was. He’s either calmed down or realized that Tony doesn’t particularly enjoy having the life squeezed out of him every time they see each other. But it’s no less warm for its newfound calmness. Instead, it feels steadying and firm, reassuring in its presence.

“You look lovely tonight,” Thor says as they sit down.

“Thank you,” Tony replies with a smile. “So do you.” Thor’s burgundy suit stretches across his shoulders, emphasizing just how large they are.

Thor places a hand on Tony’s knee, covering it completely. “Before we spoke, I wanted to tell you how brave I thought you were last week.”

Tony pauses. He has to admit that, at this point, he’d just like people to stop bringing it up. It’s nice of them to say that he was brave, but he should never have been forced to talk about his infertility like that. It’s nice of them to express their support of him, but where was that support last week?

“Thank you,” he manages eventually, not entirely meaning it.

“I should have spoken up then,” Thor continues gravely. “It is to my shame that I didn’t. I’m afraid that I was lost in my own memories, thinking of something that happened in my own life, something that truly broke my heart.”

“…Okay,” Tony says slowly, frowning thoughtfully. Is Thor about to tell him that he too is infertile? He knows that it’s more common than most people realize but four people on one season of The Bachelorette? He would wonder if the producers deliberately looked for infertility in their contestants, except he doubts that Pierce would be that considerate.

“When we met, I was so jovial and energetic that you felt it was too much. I told you that I’d swung too far that way because I thought you liked it after our first meeting. But I wasn’t always like this,” Thor admits. “I was a very angry and very spoiled child growing up. I hurt people—more than I’d care to admit, but you asked for vulnerability, and I would like to give that to you.”

“I—are you okay?” Tony asks, concerned when he realizes that there are tears in Thor’s eyes.

Thor assures him, squeezing his knee gently, “I will be. I just wish to say this first.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “You are not the first omega that I’ve seriously courted.”

“Oh,” Tony says, taken aback. He supposes that he’d figured at least a couple contestants had been in serious relationships before—hell, Clint and May had come here with children—but somehow, that hadn’t translated to Thor.

“Her name was Jane,” Thor says quietly. “She is the reason that I’m no longer the immature brat I once was. I asked her to marry me when we were twenty-one. I believe now that it was likely too soon, but we were in love and she was… she was pregnant.”

“Thor,” Tony whispers, suddenly afraid that he knows where this is going.

“I was so happy. We were so happy, just so ready to start a family. But then we… we lost our child in the second trimester,” Thor says heavily. He lifts his hand from Tony’s knee to dash away the tears in his eyes. “My mother once told me that the loss of a child can make or break even the strongest of relationships. I didn’t realize that it was true for miscarriages as well. Jane and I were both grieving but we couldn’t seem to come back together.”

Tony shifts closer to him and places his arm around Thor’s shoulder, offering silent comfort where he can.

“Thank you. I always felt that it was my fault for not offering her greater comfort.”

“Thor, no,” Tony says, dismayed. “You couldn’t—you were both grieving. It’s the—you know, when you’re on an airplane and you put the mask on yourself before helping the kid next to you. It’s like that.”

Thor makes a noise like he doesn’t quite agree, and Tony gets it. It’s easy to offer platitudes when you’re not the person in the situation, harder to accept them, true or not, if you’re going through it. And he knows all too well how easy it is to accept more than his fair share of blame for a situation that he no control in.

“C’mere,” he says instead and pulls Thor in for another hug.

Thor breathes in wetly against his shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispers. “You mean so much to me.”

Tony will be the first to admit that he’s not always the most tactful—this show has been a steep learning curve in emotional intelligence so he doesn’t like the biggest idiot when the show airs—but even he can tell that this moment isn’t about him and their relationship. He just keeps his mouth shut and lets Thor rest in his arms until he pulls away first.

“It’s—” Thor begins, wiping the last of his tears away. “It was a terrible thing, and I wish that I could have been there for Jane more than I was. I wish I could have been there for you as well. I shouldn’t have let myself get lost in my head like that.”

“No, it’s—” If anyone has a good reason for not speaking up, it’s Thor. “It’s fine,” he says honestly. Maybe it’s shallow of him to need a reason to be okay with someone not standing up for him, but he really does feel better knowing that it wasn’t about him. “Thank you for sharing that and telling me more about who you are.”

“You’re easy to share things with,” Thor says, offering a subdued smile. “And—”

The door opens, Justin stepping in. It’s unobtrusive—surprisingly so, for Justin—and he doesn’t immediately start jabbering on about something that only he cares about, but Tony doesn’t care. He doesn’t immediately leave as soon as he realizes that they’re in the middle of a very serious, very personal conversation, which makes Tony instantly dislike him.

“I…” Thor starts and trails off when he realizes that Justin isn’t leaving.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony says, trying to draw his attention back to him. “It’s just us.”

Instantly refuting his point, Justin says, “Hey, hey! Whenever you two lovebirds wrap up, I’ll just be outside. You know. So don’t take too long!”

“…Very well,” Thor says when Tony is too flabbergasted by the audacity to reply.

“Great, thanks!” Justin chirps, shooting them two thumbs up. He leaves finally.

“I don’t… I can’t believe that just happened,” Tony says disbelievingly. He shakes his head, letting out a nervous giggle. “I am—so sorry about that.”

“Well, if we’re apologizing,” Thor says, clearly trying for levity, “I must apologize for crying on your outfit. I don’t think I’ve ever cried so much in my life since Jane left.”

Tony hums and snuggles in next to him. “It’s a big thing to share your story.” He knows that now that he’s had to share his. Coming onto this show, he’d thought that he knew what it meant, but his has a newfound respect for it, after hearing what all his alphas have been through and having to tell them about what’s happened to him.

“A wise statement. But—”

The door opens again. Justin pokes his head in, beaming widely. “Hey, just checking if you’re finished yet.”

Thor tips his head to the side bewilderedly. “I’ll get you as soon as we’re finished,” he assures him. “Could you wait outside until we’re finished though?”

“It’s just that I have something really important to tell Tony,” Justin says, stepping closer instead of back.

Thor blinks at him. “As do I,” he says eventually. “Hence—” He gestures between him and Tony.

“Yeah, but can you wrap it up in a couple minutes here? You’re not the only person who needs to talk to him. Thanks, man.” Without waiting for an answer, Justin leaves again, both Tony and Thor staring after him dumbfoundedly.

After a moment, Thor shakes himself. “I’m very sorry you had to see that,” he tells Tony.

Tony shakes his head in disbelief. Seriously, has this guy never heard of manners? “It’s fine. Um, where were we?”

“I believe I’d better make this quick,” Thor says ruefully. “All I wanted to say was that you give me hope. Thank you for listening to me.”

“Absolutely,” Tony tells him immediately. Whether or not he decides that Thor is the alpha for him, he’ll always be happy to give a listening ear to the people he cares about. Growing up, he’d had too many experiences of people he thought were his friends just completely ignoring him or outright falling asleep when he tried to tell them something. He doesn’t ever want to be that person to someone else. “And I also wanted to tell you—”

The door opens again.

“Seriously?” Tony mutters under his breath.

Justin doesn’t even acknowledge him this time, looking directly at Thor as he says, “I have something really important I need to tell him.”

Tony has never felt more like a piece of meat.

“I’ve barely had any time with him,” Justin says, unaware that he’s just digging his own grave at this point. “I deserve this.”

He’s about this close to demanding what makes Justin so entitled, but Thor just calmly says, “You’re going to get your time.”

“Come on—”

“You’ll get it. Now, turn around, walk outside, and let me finish.”

“Please,” Tony adds, more politely than he feels but still trying to keep himself poised for the cameras.

Justin huffs but says, “Fine,” and finally leaves.

“I’m afraid that we’re out of time,” Thor says. “May I ask for one more hug before—”

“Hey, man.”

Unbelievable.

They pull apart from each other, and if Tony looks even half as irritable as he feels, then he’s surprised that Justin isn’t apologizing on bended fucking knee.

He almost tells Justin to get out, he’s forfeited his time for the night, but Thor simply nods and says, “Very well. Allow me one moment to say goodbye.”

Before Tony can process what’s going on, Thor has bodily pulled him into his lap, tipped his chin up with one finger, and kissed him deeply. Wetly. Messily. And, just like always, Tony’s brain short-circuits. The alpha can kiss. It’s a biting sort of kiss, the kind that definitely isn’t appropriate in front of other people, which just tells him that Thor is making a statement, one that Tony very much approves of.

He hears Justin shuffle his feet awkwardly but can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s being kissed within an inch of his life. He’s putty in Thor’s hands, at the mercy of his whims until he decides when the kiss is over. It could be hours before it’s over (well, probably not hours, given that he’s sure production would’ve stopped them so they could have the rose ceremony), but eventually, Thor does pull back. He smiles, clearly satisfied with himself for whatever dazed expression is currently on Tony’s face.

“Have a good night, Tony,” Thor murmurs before getting up and leaving.

Justin immediately moves into the space Thor vacated and tries to go in for a kiss of his own. Tony doesn’t even think about the potential ramifications of moving away. He just does.

“That was rude,” he says flatly.

Justin has the gall to actually look confused. “I don’t know what you’re—”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit. Interrupting Thor like that. It was rude, and I don’t want to see you do that to anyone else again. You got that?”

“Tony, I—”

“I said, do you understand?”

Justin’s mouth firms. “Crystal,” he grits out.

Thor is a veritable thundercloud when he returns to the main dining room. Steve, Peter, and Pepper are the only people still sitting there, the others all spread out around the room, taking in the view or at the bar. Steve shifts to the side to make room for Thor on the couch, feeling like he probably needs to vent after whatever happened while he was talking to Tony.

“Hoo boy,” Peter says under his breath. “What do you think happened?”

“Nothing good,” Steve says, equally quietly, before Thor sits down.

“Hey, man,” Peter says.

Thor turns his glare on Peter. “Do not call me that.”

That’s not good. Other than Sam, who Steve doubts is at the center of this rage, there’s only one person who calls people ‘man’ on a regular basis.

Pepper puts voice to the thought: “What did Justin do?”

“I just got interrupted on three different occasions,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “Tony even told him to leave, but he just wouldn’t get it through his head.”

“Seriously?” Peter exclaims, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “What the hell is wrong with him?”

“He thinks it’s his big break,” Pepper says, lifting her eyes skyward. “It’s obvious. None of it’s about Tony. It’s about him and his fame. He knows he’s going home tonight so he’s making a desperate attempt to prove to Tony that he should stay.”

“It was ridiculous,” Thor broods, shaking his head. “He must have interrupted us every ten seconds—fifteen at the most.”

Geez. Three interruptions by themselves are bad enough, but to come one right after the other like that? Steve’s surprised that Thor didn’t haul off and punch him. He’s not sure he would’ve been able to stop himself from doing that, even before he realized he was interested in Tony. It’s inconsiderate, it’s self-centered, and as much as Steve would like to say that violence isn’t the answer, sometimes it is. Maybe if someone had sucker punched him, Justin would get it through his head that interrupting people is rude.

“He said that he had something important to say,” Thor continues. “As though nothing that I had to say was important.”

“Bullshit,” Peter snorts. “Literally. He doesn’t have anything important to say. He’s just coming up with shit to stay on the show.”

Thor shakes his head disbelievingly. “If the omega that we’re here for needs to tell you to calm down, go outside…”

“Respect my time, I’ll respect yours,” Peter says, drumming his fingers irritably on his knee. “He just doesn’t get that. But we all know that Tony gets it.”

“Hmm,” Pepper agrees. “The writing’s on the wall there. I think we all know that he would’ve gone home last week if it wasn’t for four people self-eliminating.”

“You know what?” Peter stands up abruptly. “No. He doesn’t just get to cut into people’s time like that. Is he still in there?”

“I… believe so, yes,” Thor says.

“Peter, don’t do anything stupid,” Steve warns him. “Tony doesn’t really do petty drama.”

“It’s not petty,” Peter says firmly. “It’s karma, and karma’s a bitch.”

“No, because I’m not okay with this!” Tony snaps.

Despite his claim that he understood that Tony didn’t want him interrupting anyone else, Justin has proven himself completely incapable of understanding that at all. He’s been trying to defend himself ever since Thor left instead of telling him what was so important that he had to bother them three separate times.

“Sometimes, there are conversations that have to be had,” he says, hoping that this time, Justin will accept it and they can move on with their lives.

“I get it, I’m a deep person myself,” Justin says, which is absolutely beside the point.

“This wasn’t a philosophical debate! This was Thor opening up to me about something very personal, and you made it all about you!”

“But I have something important to share with you,” Justin insists yet again. “As much as I love the lighthearted stuff, there’s a very serious side of me that you need to see.”

Tony grabs a throw pillow, holds it over his face, and screams into it.

“…Are you okay?”

“How do you not get this?” he asks, muffled by the pillow. He lifts his head up and glares at Justin. “None of this is about you. This is about you not getting that Thor was also telling me something serious, but you decided that what you had to say was more important, which isn’t up to you! It’s my decision! So when I ask you to wait until I’m done talking to someone else, I mean it! You don’t get to just keep interrupting until you get your way.”

“I get that, I hear you, I do,” Justin says, smiling at him in what’s probably supposed to be very charming but comes off as smarmy and obnoxious. “You make the call. That’s how it should go, right? If the omega ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy, you know? If you love someone—and you know, I’ve always said that love is the biggest priority in someone’s life—”

Tony wonders if the production team will stop him if he tries to suffocate Justin with the throw pillow.

“And, you know, if you want to talk about big gestures—”

What do big gestures have to do with the topic at hand?

“I actually almost had to resign from my job to come on this show.”

Tony arches an unimpressed eyebrow. Like he would actually believe that. “Doesn’t your dad own the company?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Anyway, I chose to be here with you, and I’m glad that my dad saw it my way, so I can have both you and my job at Hammer Industries, and—hey, do you think you would be interested in taking over R&D once we merge our companies? I’d be the CEO, of course, and keep most of our stocks, but—actually, you know what? I’m getting sidetracked. I don’t want to let any of the other alphas get in the way of us.”

Yeah, that’s obvious. Tony puts his chin in his hands and tries to look like he’s listening and not imagining dramatic ways to boot Justin off the show—like picking up the last rose and saying “Justin, this rose is not for you” as he thoroughly shreds it to bits.

“I value our time,” Justin says, somehow not noticing that Tony has mentally checked out of this conversation.

The door opens.

Tony wants to scream again. There’s a part of him that’s grateful for the interruption, but he’s just so done with those tonight. Actually, for the entire season. Can he just not have any more interruptions, period? Please?

“Hey, man, that’s time,” Peter says, swaggering in.

“No, actually, can I just have two more minutes?” Justin tries. “Remember what we talked about? About how little time I’ve had to talk to Tony?”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Just two more minutes.”

“Bro, your time is up. Other people want to talk to Tony too.”

Actually, Tony doesn’t even care that Peter is interrupting his unpleasant conversation with Justin. He doesn’t appreciate this decision being made for him, he doesn’t appreciate the pettiness of it all, and he especially doesn’t appreciate being talked about like he isn’t even here.

“I literally just sat down though.”

“Yeah, but I think you’ve monopolized his time enough. Time for you to go.”

“I have to stay for two more minutes.”

“No, it’s okay. You’ve said what you needed to. You’re done.”

Justin keeps trying to argue but Peter isn’t budging. Peter is, in fact, reaching down to guide him up off the couch, steering him toward the door. The only problem is that Justin grabs onto Tony’s arm, pulling him with them in an awkward sandwich that makes him want to throw himself out the window he’s so frustrated.

“I don’t really want to go out that door right now,” Justin tries.

“Yeah, well, what goes around comes around, you know?” Peter says, smirking at him. He’s not even being subtle about how much this is all about Justin and ruining his day, not wanting to spend time with Tony.

“Tony, come here, give me a hug,” Justin says desperately. “You and me, we’re gonna get some more one-on-one time tonight, okay?”

The door shuts in his face.

Tony glares at Peter. “Hi,” he says flatly.

Justin is still ranting to Victor about the unfairness of it all when Peter comes back out of his conversation with Tony. Steve isn’t surprised to see that Peter doesn’t look too pleased. He’d warned him—Tony doesn’t do petty drama. Even he knows that, and he only just started connecting with Tony last week.

But Peter quickly fixes a smug look on his face when he realizes how many of them are watching him. He plops himself down on the couch next to Bucky, spreading his legs apart like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

Abruptly, Justin stops talking. Steve mentally groans and exchanges fed-up glances with Gabe. How did production manage to find some of the most immature people to walk the planet for this season? Don’t they care about their leads?

Justin stalks over to the couch, drops down uncomfortably close to Peter, and tries to stare him down as Peter resolutely ignores him.

Steve takes one look at the situation and decides that he’s not needed for this. Justin isn’t actually going to try anything, he’s too much of a coward, and Peter clearly feels that he already won, even if Tony isn’t too happy with him. And since he isn’t needed, he’s not going to stick around for something so ridiculous, so he gets up and heads straight for the backroom.

Tony gives him an incredibly weary look when he walks in. “Are you here to talk about Justin too?” he says warily.

Steve inclines his head and thinks about it. “I mean, I’d take anything he told you with a grain of salt. He did tell us that he would accept a pity rose if it meant staying on tonight.”

Tony groans and flops facedown on the couch. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” he mutters into the cushions.

Steve winces sympathetically and heads over to rub his back. “But you’ve got a pretty good head on your shoulders,” he adds, mentally thinking that Ty is the one exception. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that.”

Tony turns his head to the side to look at him with one whiskey brown eye. “So what do you want to talk about then?”

Dryly, Steve says, “Well, I was hoping we could talk about you. Or me. Or us. Take your pick.”

The corner of Tony’s mouth curls up.

Chapter Text

When Steve leaves the room, it’s to find the room every bit as tense as it had been when he left it. Justin, fortunately, has decided to leave Peter alone for now, so that source of tension has dissipated. But it’s been replaced by Pepper glaring at Ty, which to be fair, she’s been doing all night, but there’s a new sense of anger to it now.

“Everything okay?” he asks lowly as he takes a seat next to Bucky.

“Justin made a comment about hoping that everyone involved with the drama this week goes home,” Bucky mutters back. “Which just reminded her that she doesn’t know if Tony believes her over Ty.”

“…Right,” Steve says, wondering how Justin could possibly be so oblivious as to think that he wasn’t part of the drama. But the answer, of course, is that Justin couldn’t possibly think that he was part of it because that would require a level of self-reflection that he’s completely incapable of apparently.

“Do you think Ty’s going to get a rose tonight?” Janet asks.

“I think so, yes,” Thor says.

“Yeah, probably,” Peter says gloomily.

“Yeah?” Janet asks, sounding just as dismayed. A couple of the others sitting with them mutter their agreement.

T’Challa says quietly, “Tony does seem to have a soft spot for him.”

“I hate that I have to face the possibility that I might be going home tonight,” Pepper says abruptly. She shoots another scowl in Ty’s direction. He doesn’t even notice, cheerfully talking to Victor. “And it would entirely be based off of false information that he keeps feeding to Tony.”

“Don’t lose hope until it’s over,” Natasha says, reaching over to rub Pepper’s knee soothingly.

Pepper grimaces at her in a poor attempt at a smile. “We’ll see what happens,” she tries, but she doesn’t sound too hopeful.

Steve understands. The moment Tony decided that he wanted it to be an accidental misunderstanding was the moment it was all over. From that point on, nothing could convince him of Ty’s guilt, which would mean, in his mind, that Pepper has to be lying to him. Knowing Tony as he now does, he doesn’t doubt that Tony doesn’t want Pepper to be lying almost as much as he doesn’t want Ty to be lying, but the key word there is ‘almost.’ He'll always care more about Ty just because of the history they share, no matter what everyone else says to warn him. Steve just hopes that he can see the truth before it’s too late.

“It’s not right,” Sam says, shaking his head. “I think that you should step up for your omega when someone has bad intentions. I’m here for Tony, but I’m worried that he has a blind spot.”

“All we can do is keep seeing through the bullshit,” Bruce says, “and tell it to him straight. He’s a smart guy. He’ll figure it out eventually.”

“I don’t know,” Peter says. He lifts his glass up and sips the champagne, wrinkling his nose at the taste. “God, this stuff is awful. Get me a beer any day. Anyway, I was saying earlier today that if Ty gets a rose, to me, that diminishes the value of the rose. Like it makes him think that everything he’s doing, that’s okay.”

“But Tony doesn’t see it as everything he’s been doing,” Sam reminds him. “He doesn’t think that Ty has done anything. So it’s kind of disingenuous to take it as diminishing what a rose means to the rest of us or to Tony.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. I don’t think it’s disingenuous or whatever to say that I wouldn’t trust Tony’s judgment as much if he kept the obvious dickbag on for another week.”

There’s a lot that Steve could say to that, starting with that Ty hasn’t been an obvious dickbag to Tony, even if Steve thinks that anyone should be able to see right through that ridiculous love confession.

But Sam beats him to the punch, saying mildly, “Well, we’ll just have to hope that Tony sees through it and doesn’t give him a rose then. But as for me, I just want him to be happy, and I hope that he sees that.”

To everyone’s displeasure, Ty decides that he’s done talking to Victor and walks over to join the rest of them. Pepper huffs and stalks off, followed by a few of the others. Ty, however, grins boyishly at the ones sticking around (including Steve, who doesn’t want to be here, but that’s his job), apparently choosing to ignore that just about everyone here doesn’t like him. “How are things over here? You all having a good night?”

“It’s not terrible,” Sam allows. “Have you talked to him yet?”

“Who? Tony?” Ty shakes his head. “No, not yet.”

“Good,” Bruce interjects. “Everyone here knows that I’m not afraid to say what needs to be said, so I’ll just come right out and say it. I am mad that what you did during the group date is still lingering, and you don’t want to make me mad. So can you be honest here for once? We all know—yourself included here—that no matter what you think you feel, you’re the reason that Tony’s been upset since the moment he walked out of that elevator. You’re the reason he hasn’t been sleeping well. And you’re the reason he isn’t at his happiest right now.”

Ty had been giving Bruce that infuriating wounded puppy look throughout most of his speech, but when he finishes, it turns to irritated and concerningly calculating. “I know that’s what you think about me,” he says. “But you’re wrong. I’m not the reason Tony’s upset. Pepper is. She’s the one who—”

“You lassoed my friend, yanked her off her feet, and then elbowed her in the stomach,” Bruce lays out. “You can’t—"

“I did not!” Ty protests, jumping to his feet.

“Your rope was nowhere near her,” Wanda points out. “Wasn’t it?”

“Listen, Listen. She was on her back, I tripped over her, and maybe, when I tried to get back up, maybe, my forearm got her side or something. But I didn’t elbow her in the stomach,” Ty insists. “So you can take your accusations and put them in the garbage because that’s where they belong.” Bruce’s eyebrows shoot up to nearly his hairline. “You were never there. You didn’t see it with your own eyes.” He sits back down.

“I was there actually,” Bruce reminds him. “I was on that date too. Maybe I didn’t see the entire thing but I know what Pepper said, and I know what the half dozen people who did see it said. I know how the audience reacted, and I know what Tony’s face was. Don’t tell me that I’m not allowed to have an opinion.”

“Then don’t tell me that the sky is red when I know that it’s blue,” Ty shoots back, glaring at him. That easygoing, happy-go-lucky veneer is gone now, replaced with what Steve feels is the real Ty. It makes him all the angrier that Pierce won’t listen to his warnings and won’t let them kick him off the show under the guise of him not doing anything particularly violent yet. If Pierce thinks that Ty’s actions this week weren’t particularly violent, then Steve shudders to think what he does consider.

Bruce promptly replies, “The sky isn’t blue, and that metaphor is trite.” Bucky chokes in an attempt to hold in his laughter. “Thank you. I’m not telling you that the sky is red—”

“You’re trying to tell me that you know something but you didn’t even see it happen! How is that not—”

“Oh, just shut up,” Bruce snaps. “You’re behaving like a damn fuckboy.” The language feels surprising coming from Bruce’s mouth, who usually watches his words so carefully, making it hit all the harder.

“I’m not a fuckboy. I’m completely—”

“If that’s how you’re going to act, then that’s what I’m going to call you. Let me lay out straight for you,” he says frankly. Steve leans back, taking in the show. Bruce has this well in hand, he sees no need to intervene yet. “I don’t think you’re right for Tony. You have been the issue consistently since the very first night. You’re worryingly violent, and I can only imagine that the reason the security team hasn’t removed you is because Pierce is protecting you. You scheme about things—don’t think that the rest of us don’t know about you cornering Tony when he asked to be alone so that you could get the first impression rose. You’re a liar—”

“Excuse me?” Ty interrupts, clearly fuming. “I’ve done nothing to deserve any of this. I’ve been completely respectful to everyone here.”

He scoffs. “If that were true, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’re getting more unhinged and unstable each week, and I’d recommend a therapist to you if I thought it would do any good.”

At Ty’s side, his hand clenches into a fist as his jaw tightens. But he still isn’t getting violent, so Steve just waits. Frankly, he thinks that Ty is too scared of Bruce to try anything. As Bruce himself put it, people don’t want to see him mad. It’s not a pretty sight. Pepper was probably an easy target for Ty, but Bruce not only sees him coming but isn’t afraid to strike back.

“I think you went after Pepper for a reason,” Bruce says, echoing Steve’s thoughts.

“She clenched her fists while she was cussing me out,” Ty protests as though he isn’t also clenching his fists. “I thought she was going to attack me so I—”

“Pepper?” Sam exclaims, cutting back into the conversation. “You thought that Pepper was going to attack you?”

To be honest, Pepper kind of scares Steve. He doesn’t doubt for a second that she could take all of them down in a heartbeat. But not in a violent kind of way. No, Pepper is definitely the kind of person to break them down through her words or pointing an attack dog at them and saying “Kill.” Ty trying to defend himself by saying that he thought Pepper would attack him is like saying that he thought a butterfly was going to attack him.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Bruce states. “And you’re lying again. Which is it? You were defending yourself or you might have accidentally brushed your arm against her side?”

“I—”

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. You want to come after someone, come after me,” he challenges. “But I already told you, you won’t like me when I’m mad.”

Alright. Now that the challenge is out there, Steve doesn’t want to see if Ty will take him up on it. It’s time to step in.

“That’s enough,” he says quietly but firmly. “Tonight’s supposed to be about Tony. I don’t know about either of you, but I don’t want to see him in tears again. So walk away, please.”

Bruce glances at him but nods and walks away to join Pepper, apparently judging him as serious. Ty looks like he wants to argue but Steve raises an eyebrow, just waiting for him to attack so that he can put him down and get him out of here, and he must look threatening because Ty backs down and skulks off to his own corner.

“That was nicely done,” Sam says softly. Steve inclines his head, keeping an eye on Ty to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. “He’ll probably come after you next.”

Steve snorts almost inaudibly. “I’d like to see him try.”

“I am surrounded by strong omegas in my life,” T’Challa says, rubbing his thumb distractingly over the back of Tony’s hand. “My mother and sister. My closest friends, Okoye and W’Kabi. Wakanda has a respect for omegas that I sometimes feels can be lacking in America.”

Tony doesn’t try to defend his nation. For all that America professes to be progressive, it can be embarrassingly backwards when it comes to first and second gender dynamics. Even here, on a show that is supposed to be all about him, he still has to bend his neck to the producer, still has to call him “sir,” and it’s like that in too many places in this country.

“In Wakanda, you would be respected not for what your body is capable of but for your brilliance and spirit,” T’Challa says. He gives him a teasing grin. “Although my sister would no doubt give you a run for your money, as you say.”

“If your sister is anywhere near as brilliant as her papers make her out to be, I expect her to already far outpace me,” Tony replies, laughing. He won’t lie; he’d felt some discomfort when Shuri Udaku’s name first started showing up in journals and newsletters, realizing that he was no longer the prodigy on the block. But now that he’s had time to adjust to his new status, he can admire everything that she’s done and look forward to everything that she will do.

“I didn’t want to say it!” T’Challa laughs. “You said it first.”

“Your country sounds amazing,” Tony says wistfully, imagining what it must be like. He hasn’t had a chance yet to work with the vibranium gift T’Challa gave him on the first night but JARVIS has been running scans and the results are promising. If the rest of Wakanda is as spectacular as the vibranium, he can only imagine how beautiful it must be. “I hope I can see it one day.”

“I hope I may show it to you,” T’Challa replies. “I think that my family would love you—as would my country. The sunsets from the old palace are the most beautiful views in the world in my opinion.”

Tony closes his eyes, painting a picture of the fiery reds and glittering golds that would make up the sunset and then the deep purples and blacks as night fell. He feels calmer now that he’s seen Steve, who’d sat there and held him and reassured him just with his presence that he was here for him. And now, with T’Challa, he finally feels like the night is back on track.

“We all know that you’re here for the right reasons,” Janet is assuring Pepper when Steve joins them.

“Thank you,” Pepper says, giving her a grateful smile. “I don’t want this to be the focal point of the night anymore than I’m sure Peter doesn’t want the thing with Justin to be the focal point. I just hope that Tony can see that.”

“I’m sure he will,” Janet says, nodding firmly like she’ll make Tony see that even if he doesn’t currently. “I didn’t even know that you were planning to move to SI from the foundation until Tony brought it up to me, so I don’t know what Ty is smoking.”

He’s not smoking anything, Steve thinks bitterly. He saw a chance to manipulate a situation to his own satisfaction and took full advantage of it. He might not have even heard Pepper say anything about her plans for the future. It’s entirely possible that he made the whole thing up and just happened to get enough right for Tony to spiral.

“I want to clear this up,” Pepper says, shaking her head. “I really think that there’s the capacity for something great between us, but at the end of the day, it all comes down to what he wants, so I need to make everything as transparent as possible. I feel like it’s been a downward spiral all week. I just want to have a good conversation with him and set things straight again.”

“Pepper!” Wong calls, waving her over. “That was really great. I want to get you saying some of that in a confessional and then we’ll send you on in to talk to Tony.”

She looks up at Wong, nods, and takes a deep breath. Turning back to the other contestants, she says, “Wish me luck?”

“Every finger crossed,” Janet promises.

By the bar, Ty laughs loudly, though if it’s at Pepper or something else, is impossible to say.

“How have things been since the group date?” Tony asks.

He finds it very telling that Pepper chooses to sit on the couch across from him instead of next to him, though he doesn’t know if that’s because she finds herself uncomfortable with him now or because she thinks that he would find himself uncomfortable with her. The worst part is that he doesn’t know which he would prefer, for her to sit next to him or distance herself. He still doesn’t know who he believes, Ty or Pepper. He likes both of them so much, and he finds it close to impossible to believe that Pepper would act maliciously, but the Ty that he knew would never hurt someone deliberately the way Pepper insinuated he would. It has to be a misunderstanding of some kind, but both Pepper and Ty have been too defensive for Tony to truly believe it to be an accident. His brain feels all tangled and confused every time he tries to think of the situation, so he’s just stopped thinking about it.

He just wants to go back to the way things were last week, when the only difficulty he had with them was deciding which one he liked more.

“I’ll admit that I was taken aback,” Pepper says slowly, clearly choosing her words carefully, “by what you told me during the group date.”

Well. That’s not what he expected her to say. He’d thought that she would start by talking about Ty, not about Tony himself.

Carefully, he asks, “How so?” trying not to sound like he’s accusing her of anything.

“My grandmother told me that every sin in the world came back to lying, cheating, or stealing and that all of those were a question of compromising my integrity, so if I compromised my integrity, there is nothing I wouldn’t be willing to do. That is the philosophy that I live my life by: integrity.”

Pepper folds her hands primly in her lap and looks down at them for a long time before she lifts her head again, eyes piercing straight through him. “Tony, you questioned my integrity. Someone made you question it. Something that I hold of the utmost importance was called into question, and that has made the last few days very hard.”

“Pepper,” he begins, but she shakes her head, cutting him off.

“Tony, I really like you, and I love everything that Stark Industries and the Maria Stark Foundation does. Whether or not I’m the alpha for you, I don’t want to go back to your mother, knowing that she’s questioning everything that I do because of what happened on this show. I’m sorry for making you feel like my intentions were in question, but I need to know if you still see a future for us because I don’t want to be with someone who’s always wondering if I’m going to betray them.”

Tony’s instinctual response is to say that he doesn’t believe she’s going to betray him. Listening to what everyone has said about her has reassured him that Ty had misunderstood her when he told Tony that Pepper was here for the wrong reasons. But he forces the words back because, at the end of the day, he understands what she’s getting at. Ever since Ty put the idea in his head, he’s had a problem envisioning a future for them. He thinks that he can still get there, but he’s not sure if it’ll happen before he develops feelings for someone else.

“Um,” he starts, choosing his words just as carefully as she had. “The night of the group date was really hard for me. I know that there are other alphas here who don’t get along with Ty, and, I mean, I’ve seen plenty of my share of drama growing up near this show, so I get it. But I guess I see both sides. You have shown me who you are over and over—a woman of integrity, as you say. But I know who Ty is too, and I find it hard… hard to believe that he would do something maliciously. So I’m just trying to work out my emotions right now—I mean, I’m a mess. I wasn’t kidding when I said that I’ve been having trouble sleeping this week.”

“Right,” Pepper murmurs.

“I’m at a point where I don’t know who to trust, but I know that I don’t want to send you home unless you want to go. So I guess the answer is yes, I do potentially still see a future for us, if you’re still willing to try. But I’m going to have to ask you to move past whatever this thing with Ty is because I really don’t think he’s the monster he’s being made out to be. And if this keeps going, if you two can’t figure out a way to put it to rest, then I’ll be completely honest with you: I’m irritated with both of you in different ways and that’ll just keep growing. So where we go next? I hate to say it, but Pepper, it’s up to you.”

Pepper’s jaw is clenched when she leaves the room. She makes a beeline straight towards Ty, and Steve positions himself where he can stop her if he needs to. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Gabe, Peggy, and Falsworth doing the same. He hopes that, if something happens, they can stop her first so he doesn’t blow his cover, still believing that an undercover bodyguard is necessary, but he will if he has to.

“Ty, Tony doesn’t trust me right now,” she announces without preamble. Ty’s face immediately takes on the irritating wounded puppy look. “And it’s because of what you said. Do you really think that I’m here for the wrong reasons?”

Sensing blood in the water, everyone starts drifting closer to watch the confrontation. Ty hasn’t made himself particularly popular, but Pepper has, and it’s interesting to watch as people take up positions near the one they support.

“Out of everyone here—” Ty starts

“Ty, it’s a yes or no question,” Bruce interjects.

Pepper nods to him in thanks. “So which is it? Am I here to take over SI or not?”

Ty looks from one alpha to the next, looking for someone who’ll speak up in his defense, but even the few alphas standing with him just wait to hear what he’ll say. If Steve had to make a guess, they’re waiting to see if they need to be worried about Ty turning on them once he’s gotten rid of Pepper.

Eventually, Ty says, “No.”

The tension in the room just ratchets higher.

“Are you going to tell him?” Pepper asks bluntly.

“Yeah, of course I will,” Ty says, which Steve doesn’t believe for a second. “I’ll tell him that I do believe you’re here for the right reasons because he’s questioning my character now too.”

Okay, that Steve is a little more willing to believe. Ty doesn’t do anything if it won’t support his goals, but if Tony is also acting cold towards him, not just Pepper, then he’ll do whatever it takes to get back in Tony’s good graces.

“I don’t ever want him to be in a position like that from me,” Ty continues. “So I completely understand how you feel, and I’ll go fix it right now.”

“Hold on, you can’t just go to Tony and say, ‘Actually, Pepper is here for the right reasons,’” Natasha says. “You need to go to him and say, ‘What I told you about Pepper was wrong. I was wrong.’”

“Okay,” Ty agrees immediately, which makes Steve suspicious again. Really? He’s not even going to put up a token resistance? After insisting all week that they had it all wrong and didn’t know what actually happened?

Pepper’s eyes narrow. Clearly, she doesn’t completely believe Ty either. “Alright,” she says suspiciously.

After the door closes behind Ty, Wong says, “Pepper, we’re going to want you to give another confessional, so if you could step aside with Juliet and Brian. Natasha, can you tell us why you told Ty that?”

“Sure,” she says easily. “It’s not just about Ty saying that Pepper was right. It’s about him saying that what he did was wrong and taking accountability. It’s about him doing what’s right while he still has a chance to. Tony deserves to know the truth before he goes into tonight’s rose ceremony without all the facts that may cause him to make a decision that will hurt him later on. It’s as simple as that.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees heavily. “But I can’t help but feel like we just made a mistake.”

Despite himself, Tony can’t help but notice the difference between Pepper sitting across from him and Ty sitting right next to him and wrapping his arm around Tony’s shoulder. Between her tenseness and Ty’s relaxed smile. Between her waiting for him to explain himself and Ty immediately saying comfortingly, “I know that this week has been rough for you.”

 It's nice to be with someone who can read his mind like that. Pepper’s wonderful and Tony really likes her when there isn’t this drama surrounding her, but Ty just seems to get him. That’s why it’s so frustrating that no one else here can see what he sees.

“For me too, if I’m being honest,” Ty confides. “I don’t ever want to be that alpha that makes his omega cry or sends them on an emotional roller coaster. You deserve so much better than that. That’s the last thing I want to do to you.”

“Thanks,” Tony says quietly. “I appreciate that.” He feels like tonight has barely been about him at all. It’s all been about mediating the drama with Justin and now mediating the drama with Ty and Pepper. And that’s not how it should be. The show is literally named after him. It’s supposed to be about what he wants and his feelings, and he hates to be self-absorbed, but it really does feel like the alphas are making it all about themselves right now.

“I really wish that we could talk about us and our future right now,” Ty says, brushing some of Tony’s hair behind his ear. “I don’t want to have to talk about Pepper, but I want you to have clarity going into tonight’s rose ceremony, so I think that you need to know this. Right now, she just came up to me, asking me to put in a good word for her with you, which I don’t really feel is anything of my business.”

Wait, what? That doesn’t make any sense. Pepper was practically seething talking about Ty earlier. Why would she ask him to put in a good word for her? Why would she trust him with that?

“But what I want you to know is that what I told you the other night about her, about my opinion on her being here for the right reasons, I stand by that one hundred percent. Nothing has changed. She still doesn’t talk about you. She just talks about her plans for Stark Industries.”

“Okay,” Tony says slowly, “but Pepper assured me that she isn’t trying to become the CEO. She just likes the idea of us working together.”

“Maybe that’s what she told you,” Ty says seriously, “but when she’s not talking to you, it’s all about her and what she wants for your company. I promise you, Tony, she’s not here for you. She’s here for what you can do for her.”

“…I see.” Clearly, this whole thing isn’t as resolved as Tony had hoped. On the one hand, there’s Pepper wanting to know if he sees a future with them and telling him that he’s questioning her integrity, which makes him feel like she’s being honest. But then Ty walks in and tells him that Pepper hates him but wants him to put in a good word for her, which doesn’t add up. Something isn’t right here. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark, and he’s going to get to the bottom of it.

“I just want you to have clarity,” Ty repeats and leans forward to kiss his forehead before leaving. But Tony doesn’t feel like he has clarity at all.

Coulson has him do a quick confessional, sharing how he feels about this whole situation, before he goes back out into the main dining area. He takes a second to take in the tableau before anyone notices him: Ty, Justin, and Victor by the bar, talking to each other quietly; Pepper with Wanda, Natasha, and Janet by the windows, also talking. His gaze drifts over the room again, landing on Steve, who feels his eyes on him and glances up. Steve’s eyebrows lift, asking silently if he’s okay. Tony shrugs and gives him a tight smile. He doesn’t feel okay, but after last week, he’s not sure that he’s ready to be vulnerable like this in front of everyone again.

He approaches the group by the window and calls, “Pepper? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

The look she gives Natasha is nothing short of dread but she quietly follows him back into the side room. This time, she sits next to him on the couch, but there’s still a distance between them that Tony is starting to worry can’t be gulfed anymore.

“Is everything okay?” she asks cautiously.

Tony hesitates and then decides to be completely honest with her. That’s the only way he’ll get to the bottom of this.

“I’m not sure,” he admits. “I’m still trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?” Pepper asks, eyes widening.

He says, “Ty told me that you just wanted him to talk you up to me and put in a good word for you—” Pepper closes her eyes and looks away in annoyance—"which is confusing to me because I was under the impression that you’d be happy if you never talked to him again.”

“Is that what he said?” she snaps. “That is just like him—no. I didn’t want him to talk me up. I wanted him to tell the truth.”

“But if you wanted him to tell the truth, then why would he take that to mean you wanted him to talk you up unless you really are talking about taking over my company when I’m not there? Why would he tell me that he still thinks you’re here for the wrong reasons?”

“Listen,” Pepper insists, “he told me not ten minutes ago that he thought I was here for the right reasons and he was going to come in here and tell you that. If he told you otherwise, then he’s lying to you.”

“Or he’s lying to you,” Tony points out because he has to believe that. He has to believe that Ty is here for him, just like he said. He was so nervous that first week that the alphas would be disappointed that it’s him, and there Ty was, sweeping him off his feet in every way but literal, reassuring him that he’s here for forever, not just for a good time. He has to believe that Ty isn’t lying to him about that because if he is, then everything Tony has known for this entire season comes crashing down around his ears, and he can’t let that happen. He just can’t.

“Why would he do that?” Pepper challenges.

“I don’t know,” he says softly. “I think that’s something you and Ty need to figure out.”

“I don’t need to figure anything out with Ty,” she contradicts him. “After this season, I never have to see him again. But there’s a possibility that in six weeks, I will be on one knee, proposing to you, so I want to make sure that you and I are clear with each other. I didn’t ask Ty to talk me up. I didn’t even ask him to tell you the truth. I wanted to know if he would so that he’d stop casting aspersions on my character and so you would have the truth, but I didn’t ask him to.”

“Okay,” Tony says, folding his hands in his laps. “Thank you for telling me your side. I… need a little more time, I think.”

Pepper nods defeatedly, like she hadn’t expected him to answer any other way. “Alright. I’ll go, then.”

And he watches her leave, feeling more torn than ever.

“You!” Pepper hisses as she storms out of the side room. Her finger is pointed right at Ty, her skyhigh heels clicking loudly on the wooden floors with every menacing step she takes towards him. Steve sighs and shifts into position yet again. “You are a lying, manipulative piece of shit.”

“Oh?” Ty asks, eyes going wide and innocent. “What do you think I did this time?”

“Don’t play that game. Tony told me what you said to him. He told me that you doubled down on your opinion that I’m here for the wrong reasons.”

“Now, Pepper,” Ty says condescendingly but she’s not to be stopped and especially not by him taking that tone.

She sneers at him, “And what’s this bullshit about me telling you to go into that room and say nice things about me?”

Fuck. Steve hisses through his teeth, both surprised and not surprised at all. He hadn’t really thought that Ty would actually tell the truth, but to frame it so insidiously? To drive yet another wedge between Tony and Pepper? That surprises him.

“Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?” Ty asks, still trying to put on that frankly ridiculous innocent act. No one believes it. He might as well drop it and lean into the asshole they all know he is.

“Why would you frame it like that?” Pepper demands, ignoring him. “’Pepper told me to come tell you’? Why would you do that? Do you understand that when you go in there and say that I forced you to do something, it makes it look like I’m bullying you?”

The problem, Steve thinks, is that Ty understands that perfectly. In fact, he’s realizing, Ty probably understood that better than anyone up to this point. That’s why his ploy worked so neatly. Pepper might not be eliminated tonight, given that Tony has a habit of giving people more chances than he should (and he should give Pepper another chance, no doubt about that, but at this point, he probably doesn’t think that he should), but Steve doesn’t doubt that their relationship will never recover after this.

The only good thing that could possibly come out of this situation is that Ty will never be able to pull this trick again. Everyone has wised up to him now. They’ll be on guard for his machinations. And, as much as Steve hates to put it like this because he thinks that Pepper is an amazing person, but Ty kind of wasted his attempt. If Steve were to put together a list of the people he thinks are the frontrunners for Tony’s affections, Pepper wouldn’t have been on it. Ty’s attempt should have been spent on someone like Sam or Bucky or Bruce, his true competition in the show.

“Okay,” Ty says, “I get why you think you should be mad if that’s what Tony said I told you, but I didn’t—I didn’t say to him I—he—that you forced me.” The lie isn’t even holding up at this point, and everyone knows it, even Justin and Victor, who are taking steps back from him now. “I said that you—”

“—told you to tell him,” Pepper cuts in.

Bucky, leaning up against the interior wall, puts his hands over his face at how badly this is falling apart. Natasha just shakes her head in defeat.

“It’s the same concept,” Pepper says. “It’s all the same thing. I know you know that.” She turns to everyone else. “I want you all to be warned. This excuse for an alpha? He’s good. He would sell out his best friend if he thought it would get him a leg up. There is nothing he wouldn’t do.”

“Is that what you think?” Ty says, eyes narrowing.

“That’s what I know.”

“Did you or did you not ask me to talk to Tony?”

“You know exactly what you did, so don’t play coy,” Pepper spits.

“You said it in front of us,” Sam says.

“Exactly!” Pepper exclaims, gesturing to Sam. “You said it in front of all of them. I said to you, ‘Go in there and tell him the truth.’ Isn’t that what I said?”

“I—that’s exactly what I did,” Ty says even though he has to know that he’s not convincing anyone anymore.

“But that’s not what you did, because you said to us that you think I am here for the right reasons and then you went and told Tony the exact opposite,” she presses. “I—am I crazy here? Am I—”

“You’re not crazy,” Wanda reassures her.

“Yeah, he said it in front of everybody,” Peter agrees. He glares at Ty. “You said it in front of everybody.”

“No,” Ty insists, “because right in front of the door, not in front of everyone, Pepper asked me on my behalf—”

“That’s fucking bullshit,” Bruce declares. “We all watched you walk in there. Pepper didn’t try to have a private conversation with you at all.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Ty,” Pepper says, shaking her head. “I didn’t think you had it in you. I thought you’d stick to manipulating Tony. I can’t believe I let myself get outmaneuvered by you like this. I am so angry with myself—”

“At the end of the day—”

“Pepper,” someone interrupts. “Ty.”

The entire room straightens up, abruptly realizing that at some point, Tony had walked in. How much had he heard, Steve wonders? He wants Tony to know the truth about Ty and eliminate him all the sooner, but not like this, with accusations being slung left and right. It’s so obvious already that Tony is exhausted of the drama. Steve worries that if he learned the truth this way, it might completely break him.

But Tony shows none of that on his face as he surveys the room, gaze landing on each alpha before returning to Pepper and Ty.

“Can I talk to you?”

Tony could barely hear any of the preceding conversation, only that they were shouting. He doesn’t know who’s right, who’s wrong, who’s lying to him, who’s telling him the truth. But as he’d stood in that room, pacing around and around in circles, one thing had become clear: if he wanted to get to the bottom of this fucking nightmare, he’d need to talk to both of them at the same time.

While he was in the main room, someone had rearranged the couches so that three of them make a semi-circle now. Tony sits down on the one in the middle. Pepper sits down at his right. Ty tries to sit down next to him but Tony points at the other couch, and eventually, reluctantly, he takes his seat too.

“Alright,” he says. “I’ve been hearing conflicting stories all week, so I just want to hear what you two have to say to each other. What is going on?”

It takes a moment but eventually, Pepper starts, “Ty said that—”

“No, not to me,” Tony interrupts. He gestures to Ty. “To each other.”

Pepper purses her lips but still nods. “Okay. Ty, you made up a bald-faced lie about me claiming I wanted to take Stark Industries from Tony, which is ridiculous, given that everyone who sees him knows how much he loves that company. You decided to tell Tony that in an attempt to sabotage me and my relationship with him, and then, after I asked you if you were going to tell him the truth—and please, note those words there: I asked if you were going to tell the truth—you went to him and told him that I forced you to say nice things about me.”

“See, what happened from my perspective,” Ty counters, “is that you strongly recommended I talk to Tony about what I thought was the truth—”

Pepper clasps her hands together exasperatedly. “If you phrase it,” she sighs, “as telling Tony that—”

“Let me—wait, I’m still talking. Let me explain something to you,” Ty says, and fuck, this is more exhausting than Tony had thought it would be. This isn’t anything except what he’s already heard. He doesn’t feel like he has any greater understanding about this situation. Neither of them is changing their story, and he doesn’t know why he thought they would once they were in the same room.

“—that I forced you to go do that, then of course he’s going to be upset with me,” Pepper steamrolls over him.

Tony props his chin up on his hand and closes his eyes. He just wants this night to be over. He was done with it before he even arrived.

“Let me explain something to you,” Ty repeats.

“Do you understand that?” she says insistently.

“Let me explain something to you. You did tell me that you were here for the right reasons.”

Okay, well that’s something new. When Ty had first told him all of this, he’d made it sound like Pepper was just blithely telling everyone that she was going to take his company away from him. He’d already figured that was a misinterpretation since his mom didn’t hire people like that, but to find out that Pepper had verbally insisted that she was here for love is something else altogether. Unfortunately, though, he’s still not sure how this all got twisted into this nightmarish drama.

Ty continues, “I told Tony during the group date that I didn’t believe you were. That’s the truth that I told Tony, that whatever you told me, I didn’t believe it. I’m not going to come in here and tell him anything that I don’t believe. That’s not being honest to myself. Tony asked for honesty from all of us on the very first night that he was here, and that’s what I gave him.”

“Alright,” Pepper allows, “then why do you believe that I’m not here to find love?”

Ty pauses, then says carefully, “I just don’t think that you’re a good fit for Tony.”

Wait, so is Ty speaking for him now?

“So you’re speaking for Tony now?” Pepper asks in an echo of his own thoughts, her eyebrows shot to her hairline.

“No, of course not,” Ty says instantly. “I’m just acting based off of what he told us at the beginning of the season and what I’ve perceived from you. Everything that you do tells me that you might be here for love, but you’re not here for Tony, which means that you’re here for the wrong reasons, and that’s what I told him. So why don’t you tell me: did you or did you not—”

“I said—”

“—tell me to go to Tony and talk to him about you?”

And they’re just talking in circles now. He’d thought that they might actually be getting somewhere a second ago but they’re right back into calling each other a liar and picking at words, and he’s so tired of it all. They’re getting nowhere with this. He doesn’t feel like he knows anything more than what he did five minutes ago. Even Ty saying that Pepper told him she was here for the right reasons is useless because it all comes down to whether he believed her when she told him that, which means that from his perspective, he was telling the truth when they talked privately.

How can Tony punish him for that?

But at the same time, how can he punish Pepper for being upset at what she perceived to be a lie when all she had were the bare facts of the matter? If Tony had known going into his second conversation with her that she had told Ty she was here for love but he didn’t believe it, he would have approached that conversation completely differently. And maybe, if he had, they wouldn’t be sitting here, arguing like this.

But he didn’t know. And they are sitting here, arguing like this, and he’s so done with it all.

The room technically has two exits, one that leads back into the main dining area where everyone else is waiting and one that leads into another private dining room. It’s the second one that he goes straight towards when he decides that he’s done listening and gets up.

The production crew is set up in here, monitoring the feed, dealing with any tech issues, and generally waiting until the night is over. Well, good news for them: Tony has decided that the night is over.

He walks right up to Nick and says, “We’re done here. I’m ready for the rose ceremony.”

Chapter Text

Nick takes one look at the dead eyes and hopeless expression on Tony’s face and goes cold. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Tony was supposed to have an easy time of it. He’s the show’s first baby, for fuck’s sake. If ever there was going to be a season where people actually wanted to see the lead find love over watching more petty drama, it would’ve been this one—and it is. Nick has been following the speculation on social media since the announcement. People are excited to watch Tony’s journey for love in a way that they haven’t been since his parents. They want him to have a nice, easy time.

The problem is Alex. Nick has been trying to run interference for Tony for the last month but there’s only so much that he can do when he’s the host, not the producer. He has some modicum of creative control but not enough to overturn Alex’s decision. And Alex thinks that what this season needs to be the most watched season ever is more drama, enough so that Tony looks like this less than halfway through the show.

“Tony, are you sure?” he asks, getting to his feet. His knees pop as he stands; he’s getting old—too old to keep having to deal with this shit.

“Of course, he’s sure,” Alex says jovially. Well, of course he’d be jovial about this. The lead calling an end to the cocktail party an hour early is ratings gold, especially when it comes this early in the season. Everyone will want to know if the rest of the season will be just as bad and tune in where normally they wouldn’t have cared.

It makes Nick fume. Alex was there when Tony was born, just the same as Nick, Maria, Coulson, and most of the rest of the senior production team. He should be capable of setting aside his desire for drama just like the rest of them to see their boy happy, but instead, he’s acting like the worst reality TV producer stereotypes he can think of.

“Enough, Alex,” he says sharply. He glances at the cameras that followed Tony in. “Cameras off.” If Tony gets as emotional as Nick worries he will, then there doesn’t need to be a record of that. Tony would just find it humiliating.

“No,” Alex replies, just as tensely. “Leave them on.” He gives Nick a narrow-eyed look, but he isn’t worried. Out of all the people Alex could fire from this show for disagreeing with him, Nick isn’t one of them. He holds too much power on this crew to worry about that.

Even so, he tersely agrees, “Fine. Cameras stay on.” He turns back to Tony, who should be the focus here. “Tony, are you sure that you want to do this? You don’t have to. It’s only one bad night.”

“But it’s not one bad night, is it?” Tony exclaims. He hugs his middle, rocking up on his toes just a little. “This whole week has been bad, and I’m so done with it, Nick. I really am.”

Nothing that Nick is going to say is going to convince him at this point. And, to be fair, he isn’t sure that he should. Tony isn’t wrong that it’s been a rough week. He’d just thought that they could put a stop to the Ty and Pepper drama so that Tony could wind down with some of the less dramatic alphas before the rose ceremony. But Tony wants to be done, and Nick won’t try to convince him any further. He knows his own mind.

“Alright,” he agrees. “Why don’t you tell props how many roses you want? I’ll gather up the alphas.”

Tony nods mutely and shifts aside for Nick to leave. He goes into the smaller room first. Ty and Pepper are still arguing, though they both immediately shut up as soon as he enters the room.

“Pepper,” he acknowledges, nodding to her first. He’s bound by contract not to give Tony any help—and he will actually lose his job if he tells him that Ty is full of shit—but it burns to watch Ty manipulate him like this. Pepper is clearly the wronged party here, and as much as Nick hates to admit it, by both Ty and Tony at this point. “Ty.”

“Hi, Nick,” Pepper says quietly.

“Nick,” Ty replies.

“Could you two follow me, please?”

The irritated look on Ty’s face melts into worry. “Are we being kicked off?” he asks, face scrunching up in concern.

“If you were, I would’ve told you,” Nick says flatly. “I’m asking you two to follow me.”

“Of course,” Pepper says, rising smoothly to her feet. Ty is more sullen about it, more unwilling as he mutters something about waiting for Tony to come back, but follows him too.

Nick leads them out into the main dining room where they group with the other alphas. He takes a minute to compose himself by looking out at the breathtaking view. San Antonio doesn’t have much of a skyline, but it just means that he can see all the further, reminding him how small they are in the grand scheme of things.

Finally, he looks back at everyone and says simply, “This night is over. Cocktail party is done. We’re going straight to the rose ceremony.”

“Jesus,” Sam swears under his breath. Bruce rubs his hand over his face. Ty tips his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“I’ll see you in there.”

Nick stands in the corner and waits for Tony to walk in. The alphas are lined up, the three with roses at the end of the line, though Natasha is in the front row rather than the back with Loki and Steve. None of them look happy, even the ones who already have roses. Ty opens his mouth once to speak but Bucky elbows his side—with the metal arm too—and he falls silent again. Good. He needs to learn when to keep his mouth shut.

Tony enters, still looking frustrated, still done with tonight, but like the master study in handling the media that he is, he’s tinged it now with vulnerability and fear. Even Nick can’t tell how much of it is real and how much is put on for the sake of the cameras. As he enters, he glances off towards his right, and some of the tension melts down his spine.

Nick follows his glance and feels a chill race down his spine when he sees Steve offering a small, comforting smile. Not Steve, he thinks to himself. Anyone but Steve. He knows how much Tony hates it when people lie to him, and it won’t matter that Steve did it for a good reason. The moment he finds out the truth about Steve’s presence on the show, that relationship is over and likely explosively so. This won’t end well, and Nick doesn’t want to see Tony—or even Steve, who he’s come to like—get hurt.

“Hey,” Tony says, wrapping his arms around his middle again when he comes to a halt in the middle of the room.

“Hi,” a few people chorus but most of them are too on edge to really say anything.

Tony nods like he hadn’t expected anything else. “Tonight has been confusing,” he continues. Standing offset to him like he is, Nick can see his fingers drumming anxiously against his ribs. “Add that to a hard week and… I’m sorry that I canceled the cocktail party early, but I didn’t feel like my decision was going to change any no matter what else I heard. Every time going into this is hard, but it just feels like it gets harder and harder, especially now that I’ve gotten to know all of you better. So tonight, I just ask you to keep in mind that as much as I appreciate your concerns and what you’ve expressed to me this week, I am making the best decision that I can for myself and that I don’t make these choices blithely.”

Nick sighs to himself. There’s only one reason Tony would be saying that, and judging from the hung heads around the room, the alphas know it too.

Tony clearly knows it too because unshed tears start to glimmer in his eyes as he says, “I don’t want anyone here who doesn’t want to be here. So if you can’t live with the choice that I make tonight, then please.” He gestures at the elevator. “There’s the door.”

But despite their obvious displeasure, no one moves. Nick lets out a long exhale. He doesn’t want Tony to be with someone who won’t trust him to make his own decisions, but after last week’s rose ceremony, he doesn’t want anyone else to just walk off either. Tony deserves better than that.

Tony picks up the first rose, fiddles with it a moment, then says, “Bucky.” Bucky grins boyishly at him, which Tony returns shyly. Nick thinks that he wouldn’t mind having Bucky in the family. “Bucky, will you accept this rose?”

“Absolutely, baby doll,” Bucky says around his smile.

Ty licks his lips nervously. Good. He should be nervous.

“T’Challa,” Tony says next. “Will you accept this rose?”

“Every time you ask,” T’Challa says easily.

“Sam, will you accept this rose?”

Sam smiles at him, just as warmly as ever. “Of course I will.”

Nick hadn’t really expected that Tony would call Pepper out so soon, but he can’t help but feel worried when he realizes that they’re already a third of the way through tonight’s roses. Tony had selected nine roses to make for a total of twelve alphas going forward this week. Three alphas will be going home. One of them could be Pepper. Ty could be staying on for another week.

“Bruce, will you accept this rose?” Tony asks.

Nick is half-expecting Bruce to be the one to say no, to say that he can’t keep being a part of this farce if there’s a possibility that Ty will stay. But Bruce surprises him by nodding and saying, “As long as you’ll have me.” He isn’t completely certain that Bruce truly has romantic feelings for Tony and isn’t just looking out for him because he thinks that no one else among the contestants is, but Nick is still relieved. Bruce has a good head on his shoulders; he’ll keep Tony straight.

Tony asks, “Thor, will you accept this rose?”

“Yes, of course,” Thor says gravely.

“Janet,” Tony calls next. “Will you accept this rose?”

“Absolutely, honey,” Janet says, as bouncy and enthusiastic as ever. Tony grins at her, appearing more buoyed by her charm.

There are only three roses left. Three possibilities. Nick thinks that he can guess who one of the eliminated choices will be—Justin would have been eliminated last week if not for the en masse walk-off—but he has no idea who the other two will be. Pepper is eyeing the roses in some alarm, clearly doing the math as well. She could be going home tonight, and if she does, Nick has no idea what’ll happen to her career with the Maria Stark Foundation. He doesn’t think for a second that Maria would fire her, but he can’t imagine how awkward it would be for Pepper and Tony to see each other after this.

“Wanda,” Tony calls. She steps forward. “Will you accept this rose?”

“Yes,” she murmurs.

Tony looks down at the last two roses, hand hesitating. Pepper and Peter, Nick silently urges him. It’s gotta be Pepper and Peter. Make Ty go home. End this whole nonsense tonight.

“Pepper,” Tony says eventually.

Pepper’s relieved sigh is audible, though her lips are still slightly pursed as she steps forward to accept her rose.

“Will you accept this rose?” he asks.

“I will,” she says breathlessly. While she hugs him, Nick hears her whisper, “Thank you.”

And then there’s just one rose left.

Nick steps forward. “Tony,” he says seriously, clasping his hands behind his back. “Alphas. This is the last rose that will be given out tonight.” He looks at Tony and offers him a reassuring smile. “When you’re ready.”

Tony hesitates again, biting his lip as he looks up at the remaining four alphas. Peter and Victor both look nervous. Ty and Justin are smug, fully believing that one of them will be the last rose given out. It has to be Peter, Nick thinks again. Tony can’t possibly think that Ty is the best choice after everything that’s happened this week. He can’t. It would be—

“Ty,” Tony announces.

The shock in the room is palpable. Janet’s mouth has unsubtly dropped open. Wanda outright gasps. Some of the cannier alphas—Bruce, Sam, Steve—look like they’d fully expected this but still can’t mask their disappointment as Ty steps forward and accepts his rose. It’s still a fall from grace for him, from middle of the pack to dead last, but dead last still receives a rose. And in the meantime, Peter goes home. Tony must have been more fed up with the interrupting than anyone had realized.

Running on automatic, Nick steps forward. “Alphas, if you didn’t receive a rose, I’m sorry. Feel free to take a moment to say your goodbyes.”

To his credit, Justin at least doesn’t make a fuss about not receiving a rose. That might have to do with the bodyguard Steve surreptitiously motions to follow him but at least it happens. As the other two alphas take their leave as well, Nick signals for one of the runners to come forward with the champagne tray.

“Texas has certainly been eye opening,” Tony says once they all have their glasses. He carefully doesn’t look at either Pepper or Ty, which Nick approves of. “But let’s say we take this show overseas?”

“Hey, I like that,” Sam says heartily.

“Hear, hear,” Bruce toasts.

Tony grins at them. “Hope you’ve brought your pasta fork because we are heading to Italy next week!”

Chapter Text

“Room assignments!” Maria calls to the remaining twelve alphas as they file into the lobby of Hotel Palazzo Manfredi. A set of actual brass keys dangle from her fingers. The toe of her sensible boots tap on the marble floor impatiently. She’s been in a foul mood since filming started. Peggy, who’s plugged into all of the gossip, says it’s because she’s been shuttled into a glorified production assistant’s role since Pierce decided he wanted to take on a more hands-on directorial role.

“Natasha,” Maria continues. “Pepper, Wanda, Janet. Room Twenty-Four. Your luggage’s already been brought up to your room. You have an hour to get cleaned up, changed into something nice for filming, and get back downstairs.”

“Wait, we’re sharing rooms?” Ty asks incredulously as the four women (and Peggy, who Steve has already been informed has been assigned to the room) split off for the elevators. “What about privacy?”

Maria arches an unimpressed eyebrow. “You have a view of the Colosseum for a week. You think that comes cheap?”

“No, but—”

“Exactly.” She glances back down at her clipboard. “Steve, Bruce, Bucky, Ty. Room Twenty-Six. Luggage—”

“—has already been brought up to the room, yeah we got that,” Ty grumbles.

“—is waiting for you in your suite,” Maria finishes ruthlessly.

Steve shares a look with Bucky and Bruce as they head for the elevators. Ty follows along, still muttering sullenly under his breath. Gabe brings up the rear gamely.

Steve drops back to ask Gabe lowly, “So that’s Monty in the suite with Loki, Sam, T’Challa, and Thor?”

“Mmhmm,” Gabe says easily, making Steve think that this was something that was already decided between his team. Damn but he misses being able to easily liaise with them instead of having to hear about their decisions after the fact. Peggy and Sharon are doing a fantastic job leading their respective teams without him, but he hates being so out of the loop.

“Monty knows to keep an eye on whatever’s up with Loki and Thor, right?”

“Yep. Arnie was able to track down Laufeyson’s foster record by the way,” Gabe adds.

“What?”

“Sharon thought of something when she heard about his time in the foster system that might explain why he doesn’t like Thor all that much.”

“Oh?” Steve asks, frowning. This must have come up during the one-one-one because he doesn’t remember hearing about any of it.

“Turns out she was right. His last family before his dad took him back was with the Odinsons.”

“Geez,” Steve murmurs. Yeah, that would explain his tension with Thor. A few weeks ago he’d overheard Loki telling Bucky and Sam about his contentious relationship with his dad, but he hadn’t even remotely thought to connect the dots like that.

They have to stop talking then as they’ve joined the others at the elevators. Ty sneers at them.

“Making friends with the help, Rogers?” he snips.

Steve wants to punch him for being such an asshole but he bites back the impulse. He knows perfectly well that doing something like that wouldn’t get Ty thrown off, but it would get him removed. Pierce would probably take any excuse to have the last obstacle to the dramatic season of his dream dismissed. That’s almost certainly why Bruce is in this suite with Ty—to hopefully cause more drama like at the rose ceremony last week.

“Absolutely,” he says instead. “Figured if I don’t get a rose this week, maybe they won’t just toss me out on my ass.”

“Oh for sure,” Gabe plays along. “We’ll be real gentle with you, Rogers.”

Bucky laughs. Ty looks sour at the lack of a rise from either of them. Bruce looks worryingly thoughtful though, and Steve makes sure to step away from Gabe to strike up a friendly conversation with Bucky instead.

The suite, as it turns out, is simply gorgeous. The suite—or apartment, really, as it’s an entire two stories—has an incredible view of the Colosseum, making Steve’s breath catch in his throat when he looks across the road at all that ancient history. He’s already picturing taking his cup of coffee out onto the balcony each morning to sip it while admiring the view. The kitchenette right by the door will probably go unused since breakfast is included and none of them know the area well enough to find a grocery store, but Steve imagines making use of the sitting area by the glass balcony doors with ease. Each floor has two separate bedrooms, all with their own private bath and another view of the Colosseum.

Ty promptly declares one of the first floor bedrooms as his own, citing bad knees for why he can’t climb the stairs to the second floor. Bucky rolls his eyes, but Steve doesn’t argue. Ty being on the first floor just makes it easier for Gabe, unfortunately on the pullout couch, to keep an eye on him.

He does try to put up a fight when Bruce, not even being subtle about his desire to keep a close eye on Ty, lays claim to the other first floor bedroom. But eventually he has to give that one up. There’s only so far that he can go before it becomes suspicious that he wants that room, and he already has a feeling that Bruce suspects something.

The hour goes by quickly. Before long, Steve is heading back downstairs in a pair of khakis and a dark blue button-up. He’s not the only one fairly simply dressed. Bruce is in chinos, and Bucky is in a henley. That doesn’t stop Ty from sneering at them and asking them how they could possibly think that Tony will be impressed by any of them.

“Well, the three of us have had one-on-ones and you haven’t,” Bucky retorts, “so I think we’ve got a pretty good handle on what impresses Tony.”

Steve ducks his head to hide his smile. Ty looks like he’s bitten into a lemon.

Janet is practically bouncing on her feet when they arrive in the lounge. “Do you think Tony will pick someone new for the first one-on-one?” she squeals.

Steve frowns. “Isn’t that how it’s supposed to go?” he asks.

“Don’t you know how anything works on this show?” Ty mocks.

Steve ignores him. Wong calls Ty over to give a confessional, breaking the tension.

Bucky supplies, “The bachelorette can give a second one-on-one to whoever they want whenever they want. Doesn’t usually happen the first few weeks—”

“Because they’re still getting to know everyone,” Steve finishes, eyes lighting up in realization.

“Yeah, exactly. But usually, right around now’s when they’ll start figuring out who they could actually see a future with, so they start doing multiple one-on-ones with their favorites.”

…Steve will never understand how this show works.

Oh, he gets it logically, why you would want to go on multiple dates with someone before getting engaged to them, but this entire show makes no damn sense. Six dates isn’t enough time to know if you want to get engaged to someone. How can Tony know who his favorites are when he hasn’t been on a one-on-one with them? Every time Steve thinks he has a handle on the show’s format, another spanner gets thrown into the works.

To everyone’s surprise, Tony knocks on the lounge’s door. He waves the date card through the air enticingly like it’s a tasty piece of bacon and the smell will waft towards them.

“Tony!” the alphas cheer, Steve finally managing to remember to say it with them this time. Ty quickly takes his leave from Wong, fixing an easygoing smile to his face that reads as faker than a Republican’s concern for a school shooting.

Tony steps into the throng, welcomed with hugs and cheek kisses from just about everyone present. When it’s his turn, Steve folds him into his arms, a little scared by how right it feels. When he falls for someone, he falls hard and fast, but falling this hard, this fast? He’s never experienced that before, and he doesn’t want to lose sight of what’s important—keeping Tony safe—because he’s so wrapped up in his own emotions.

“Hi,” Tony whispers to him when he steps back.

“Hi,” Steve replies, slightly strangled from the emotions choking his throat.

“It sure is a surprise to see you, babydoll,” Bucky says, leaning in next to kiss Tony’s cheek.

“Oh? You didn’t know I was coming?” Tony replies, big brown eyes widening.

“Not at all,” Thor agrees.

“Definitely welcome though,” Sam chimes in.

“Okay, cool,” Tony says. He folds the date card into the back pocket of his skintight jeans. Paired with a graphic t-shirt (“Life is full of pasta-bilities”), it’s the most casual that Steve has ever seen him, other than the footage he’d seen before the show began. There’s a confidence there too, one that Steve hasn’t seen in weeks. That bright-eyed hopefulness is back, the same one that he’d missed so much. Tony is holding himself straighter too, and Steve wonders if he used the time on the plane to reset himself.

“I just stopped by to drop off the date card,” Tony says, patting his pocket. “But then I got here and I realized that I have something to say before this week gets started. It’s nothing bad, I promise!” Their faces must have been dire for Tony to add that so hastily, Steve thinks amusedly. “It’s just—I spent a lot of time on the plane, thinking about last week—the last two weeks, really—and I think maybe this is something that some of you can benefit from hearing too.”

He doesn’t look at Ty, but Steve also thinks that he doesn’t not look at Ty either. But if Ty thinks that this might be meant for him, then he doesn’t look at all discomfited. If anything, Steve would say that he looks smug, like he thinks that, whatever Tony’s advice might be, it’s meant for everyone else instead.

“I keep asking for you to give me honesty,” he continues, “but I haven’t been completely open and honest with all of you because we keep getting distracted by petty drama. I’d like to be able to open up to you, and I’m tired of feeling like I can’t because there’s always something else to focus on. There are relationships here that are building, but at the end of this, in five weeks, I want to be able to say that I’ve found the alpha I want to spend the rest of my life with. Right now, though, I’m worried that I can’t do that when so much of our time is taken up with stupid drama. So I spent my time on the plane refocusing on what’s actually important here and resetting so I’m not constantly thinking about the last two weeks. And I think that that’s something we should all do in this new country, on this new continent: reset ourselves. So if you can promise me that you’ll at least try to reset and put aside everything from last week, everything from two weeks ago, then I promise you I’ll be completely honest with you. From now on, I am opening my heart fully to you, and I hope that you can do that with me. Okay?”

“Absolutely,” Steve says heartily. He’s felt this way for weeks, that it should be about Tony, not whatever is going on with the other contestants. He doesn’t want to minimize what happened between Ty and Pepper, not when he still has concerns over Ty’s stability, but so much of the last month hasn’t been about Tony, and that isn’t right.

“Of course,” Sam agrees with him. A few of the other alphas nod or murmur their own agreement.

“Great!” Tony says brightly, giving them a relieved smile. “We’ve got some absolutely amazing things planned for this week. I just want it to be super fun for all of you. I don’t want to be worrying about stupid shit.”

“Don’t worry, Tony,” Bruce says, eyeing Ty. “We’re all on the same page as you.”

Ty looks offended at the implication that he would be anything else. Steve just feels tired. It’d be better if Ty would just be open about his—sorry to be dramatic—nefarious intentions. But pretending that he has no idea why everyone else hates him got really old really fast. Give Steve an enemy that he can punch any day over this subterfuge.

“Alright, then,” Tony says. “Well, dates start tomorrow, and one of you has a very early start so without further ado—” He pulls the date card out of his pocket and holds it up again, raising his eyebrows.

“I’ll take it,” Wanda says eagerly. Tony hands it to her with a flourish, waves at all of them, and leaves.

Once the door has shut behind him, Sam says, “Moment of truth.”

“It’s me,” Ty says arrogantly. “I’m so ready for my one-on-one, and Tony knows that.”

“Shut up, Ty,” Pepper snaps. Steve mentally applauds her.

“We’ll see,” Wanda says neutrally, putting a stop to the brewing argument before the kettle is even hot. She opens the envelope, slides the card out, and—pauses. Both eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. She silently reads the card again.

“Well?” Ty demands.

“’Steve,’” she states, clearly surprised.

And who can blame her? Steve himself is surprised. He is the first alpha to have multiple one-on-ones? At the risk of sounding like some medieval courtier, he only just regained Tony’s favor from the Week 2 fiasco. But here he is.

“’We’re cruising our way to love,’” Wanda continues reading. “’Love, Tony.’”

“What, are you going for a drive in the countryside or something?” Bucky asks confusedly.

Clearly focusing on what’s important, Ty crosses his arms and says angrily, “What the hell did he do to get a second one-on-one when some of us haven’t even gotten one?”

“He wasn’t fake, for one thing,” Natasha says. Steve feels very guilty at deceiving them, and Tony most of all.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “Tony could definitely tell when he walked in here who put on a different persona now that he was here. No one was expecting him. You just know he did that on purpose, so he could figure out who isn’t telling him the truth.”

Ty’s hand clenches into a fist at his side. “Excuse me? Why are you looking at me?”

“Oh, don’t even try threatening me,” Sam retorts. “That shit you tried with Pepper won’t work with me. Hell, it didn’t even work with Pepper. We all know that you’re the only one here who’s lying.”

Steve tries not to fidget uncomfortably. The thing is, Ty isn’t the only one who’s lying. The difference between them is that Steve is doing it to protect Tony, not to gain anything. But it’s still a lie, and he feels more aware of it than ever now that he has another one-on-one.

Janet says pointedly, “Tony wants us to be organically ourselves to the absolute max.”

“It’s not necessarily about who can be the most themselves,” Ty argues even though that’s pretty much exactly what Tony said. “It’s about being ourselves the whole time.” Okay, now that he’s finished the thought, that’s actually fair.

“That still lets you out though,” Loki says, pursing his lips.

Ty ignores him. “We’re all trying our best to be ourselves here—” Pepper tips her head back to stare at the ceiling. “I’ve been doing my best to do that—I assume you are too—but I have to tell you—”

“Ty, stop,” Loki interrupts him. “Would you have said something completely inaccurate about someone, the way you did with Pepper, if you weren’t in this situation?”

“But I wasn’t being ‘inaccurate’ as you put it,” Ty protests.

There’s a very long sigh from just about everyone.

“No, listen!” Ty protests. “I told Tony that I thought Pepper wasn’t here for the right reasons, but before I said that, I told him that I didn’t really feel like it was my place to—”

“You know, every time you tell this story, it changes,” Bruce states flatly. “You think Pepper is here for the right reasons, you say that you never said that, you tell Tony flat out that she’s not here for the right reasons, then you say that that’s just your perception, now you’re telling us that you tried to tell him that you didn’t think you had the right to say something bad about the other alphas, even though you then promptly said something bad about another alphas—Ty, the only person here who doesn’t know that you’re lying is Tony, so stop trying to act like you’re this innocent, wounded party to the rest of us. At least do us that favor.”

Ty nods but then says, “But I didn’t think that I had the right to speak out—”

Everyone groans, cutting him off.

“If you didn’t think that you had the right,” Thor rumbles, “then you shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yeah, haven’t you ever seen Bambi?” Janet asks. Wanda huffs a small laugh. “Thank you, hon.”

“No, I get that,” Ty insists. “I’m not talking bad about Pepper—”

“You ran an actual smear campaign against me—” Pepper interjects.

“You are a liar,” Loki says.

Ty shakes his head in denial. “No, I’m not.”

“You are—”

“You weren’t there. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You didn’t see it.”

“We all saw it—”

“Look, I’m not saying anything about Pepper, that’s not my business—”

Pepper looks like she’s going to throttle Ty. Frankly, Steve wouldn’t blame her but it’s his job to make sure no one gets killed on this shitshow of a reality dating show. He sidles along the edge of the group while everyone is still arguing with Ty and comes up behind him.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks softly.

She jumps. “How are you so quiet for such a big man?” she hisses.

Steve chuckles. “Talent. You doing okay?”

Pepper gives him a sardonic look. “What do you think?”

“I mean, no, but what I really meant is do you need an intervention before you smother him with a pillow?”

Despite her clear frustration, she giggles. “Thanks, but no. Standing aside while I throw my drink at him might be nice, though.”

Steve weighs whether or not he thinks that counts as hurting another contestant. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

She laughs again. “You know, no one’s said it, but congratulations on getting the date card.”

“Thanks,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can’t help but think it should’ve gone to someone else.”

“No,” she assures him. “You deserve it. Tony clearly likes you a lot.”

“He likes you too, you know,” he says.

Pepper glances darkly at Ty. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

“Maybe not from where you’re standing, but he wouldn’t have kept you here if he completely believed Ty. I think he knows, deep down, that Ty isn’t who he says he is.”

She doesn’t look like she fully believes him, but she still says gamely, “I just hope he sees it before it’s not too late.”

Chapter Text

Despite being a habitual early riser, Steve is still not up in time to get a workout in before Pierce’s PA, Rumlow, knocks on the door to let him know they need to leave in thirty minutes. Steve blinks down at his running clothes, decides that that’s almost certainly not appropriate to wear on a date, and wheels around, only to pause when he remembers that he doesn’t know what they’re doing. He doubts that Rumlow, who dislikes him almost as much as Pierce does, will tell him, but he might be willing to give Steve a hint regarding his clothing.

“How dressy should I be?” he asks, gesturing at his clothes.

Rumlow sneers at the hole in the hem of his shirt. “You could go like that and see how Tony would take it.”

Okay, well, Steve isn’t going to do that. Clearly, Rumlow isn’t inclined to be helpful. He thinks back to the date card—cruising their way to love. Maybe something on a boat? Best to go with something casual but still stylish. Fortunately, after making it past the second week, Peggy had gone out and bought him a new wardrobe, citing that he needed to step up his game if he wanted Tony to think well of him. At the time, Steve hadn’t wanted anything of the sort, but he’s grateful for it now.

He changes quickly, not wanting Rumlow to have any reason to complain about him: dark jeans, a navy blue t-shirt, and a black jean jacket that he rolls up to his elbows. It’s not an overly warm day in most of Italy, but he still wants to make sure that he’s prepared for anything. Steve runs his hands through his hair, giving it an artfully tousled look while he marvels at himself for spending this much time on his appearance. He never cared before how he looked, figuring that what was inside was much more important than what was outside, but he finds himself wanting to look good for Tony. He wants to impress him. Fifteen minutes later, he’s back downstairs and slipping out the door.

None of the other three are awake yet, so he doesn’t get any well-wishes. He isn’t sure that he would want them anyway. There’s something inside him that squirms at the thought of his second one-on-one when over half the alphas here haven’t even had one. He can’t help but feel like if he hadn’t snuck out to see Tony, then he wouldn’t have gotten it. There were valid reasons to sneak out—the infertility reveal, the concert—but it still makes him uncomfortable.

The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon when Steve leaves the hotel. The sun hitting the Colosseum makes his breath catch as he wishes that he lived somewhere that looked like this first thing in the morning. Rome is waking up around them, historic and beautiful. He watches out the car window eagerly as bakeries open their doors and vendors set up in the plaza. He’s never lived anywhere like this; it’s all new to him and all incredible.

They drive about an hour outside of town before pulling over to a little local airport instead of the international one they’d flown into yesterday. It takes him a moment to understand why but then, once he sees the film crew already set up, he understands. It’s a lot easier to film when there aren’t people stopping and gawking at them.

Unlike with Bucky, Pierce hasn’t bothered with a special Stark Industries jet for Steve. It could just be because of the logistics of bringing the plane to Italy, but he suspects that at least some small part of Pierce is being petty over his dislike of Steve and his team. Whatever the reason, they have a still-nice-but-smaller business jet to take instead.

“Steve?” Wong calls once they’ve taken off. “Let’s have you do a quick interview.”

Inwardly, he rolls his eyes, tired of having to stop every couple of hours and explain his feelings instead of just being allowed to live them. But he should have known that this was part of the job when he took it on, though he’d originally thought that he wouldn’t have to put in any of the regular work the other alphas do, so he nods and follows Wong to the back of the plane.

“How are you feeling about today?” Wong asks.

“Uh, nervous?” Steve says. “Definitely nervous. Bucky was telling me last night that the first person to get a second one-on-one is almost as big of a deal as the first one-on-one is. And I can’t help thinking that I’m not the most deserving of it.” That’s an understatement, even if he wasn’t including the truth of why he’s here. “Tony and I had a really rough start. I was amazed that he gave me a chance at all, and now this? I just feel like there are other alphas here who deserve it more, you know, who’ve been consistent this entire time.”

“So you don’t want to be here?” Wong says.

“No!” Steve exclaims immediately, taken aback by the assumption. He frowns and rubs his face. “No, I want to be here. I love spending time with Tony. Every time I see him, I think that he’s more incredible. He’s amazingly resilient; I don’t know many people who could’ve handled what’s been thrown at him so far without breaking. I—he’s funny, he’s brilliant. I really like being around him. I’m just… surprised, I guess, that he likes being around me.”

“Hmm,” Wong grunts. “Would you say then that you’re falling for him?”

“I… guess?” Steve asks, wrinkling his nose. That sounds like it was a prompt. “I mean, I’ve only known him for a month. It’s hard to know—”

“Steve,” Wong interrupts, shaking his head. Okay, so that was definitely a prompt and he missed it. Maybe the alphas are supposed to be saying things like that now. It all still seems a little fast to him, especially when he considers the failure rate of relationships in this show, but what does he know?

In any case, it’s not that he isn’t falling for Tony. He is, and he’s falling fast, and it all is starting to scare him. He really hadn’t thought that it was possible to fall in love with someone over ten weeks, but he’s starting to see it now. So it’s not that he’s not developing feelings for him. It’s that, again, it’s happening so fast, all while he’s trying to keep Tony safe from people who definitely don’t have his best interests at heart, and he’s having to do it all in front of the cameras. This is playing out on a very public stage, and Steve isn’t a very public person. He hates having to put on a show and pretend to be someone that he’s not while people feel safe judging and mocking him for his very real emotions.

“Steve,” Wong repeats. “Are you falling for Tony?”

He knows what the answer has to be, and it doesn’t matter how truthful it is, the thought of the editing that they’ll do to this clip, the swelling violins and brightening light, makes him feel like no matter what he says, no matter how much he means it, it’s still fake.

But he knows what’s expected of him, and he knows that Pierce has it out for him, so he fixes a smile to his face, thinks about Tony kissing him on the couch, and says, “Yeah. I’m really falling for Tony Stark.”

“Wong,” one of the assistant directors calls. “Mr. Rogers. If you could get back in your seats, please? We’re beginning our descent into Venice.”

Steve starts to nod, then pauses. “…Venice?”

Tony waits by the gondola, idly chatting with their gondolier. A breeze kicks up through the canal, making him shiver. It’s actually somewhat chilly today, made even more so by the fact that Tony is in shorts, of all things. Stylish shorts, pretty periwinkle shorts with a bird pattern, but still shorts. The bare shoulder butterfly sleeves of his pale lavender shirt don’t help either. He rubs his arms briskly, trying to warm up.

“Tony, could you try to look a little less cold?” Coulson calls to him.

He scowls at him. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he shouts back snippily. “Is my freezing inconvenient for you?”

“It’s barely seventy degrees, Tony.”

Next to Tony, the gondolier looks confused for a brief second before apparently remembering that they’re talking in Fahrenheit.

“Well, not all of us are in a warm jacket, now are we?”

Coulson looks unimpressed by his outburst. Well, too bad. Tony isn’t in much of a mood to be charitable. He doesn’t much appreciate how the production crew has been acting these last few weeks, culminating in being told this morning that his request for the second one-on-one this week has been denied and Pierce is picking who he’s going on a date with. Tony just knows that he’s punishing him for picking Steve as the first one-on-one. Steve isn’t an easy story to tell, and Tony knows that. The fact that his feelings for Steve developed when the cameras were off means that this must look like it’s coming out of nowhere to Pierce. But it didn’t come out of nowhere to Tony, and that’s what matters.

As if he read his mind, Coulson asks, “Your first one-on-one this week is with Steve. Do you want to tell us how that happened?”

What happened is that Tony falls for people easy and fast. That’s why he’s had such a hard time with reconciling Ty today with the Ty he remembers. It’s why the lack of sparks when T’Challa kissed him disappointed him so much. And it’s why, after spending just a few hours with Steve, he knew that he wanted to spend more time with him. It’s part of why he’s having such a hard time with the eliminations when he’s developing feelings for so many people all at the same time.

But as it’s always been, admitting to production that he knowingly broke the rules and went out with Steve while the cameras weren’t around is an impossibility, so he chews over the question in his mind before answering with a version of the truth.

“Telling everyone about my infertility was hard,” he says slowly. “But Steve didn’t treat me any differently after that. He didn’t treat me like I was something disgusting but he didn’t treat me like I was glass either, and I really appreciated that. I needed that. It wasn’t just that I needed to hear that there wasn’t anything wrong with me, but I needed to hear that I wasn’t different either. And Steve did that for me.

“And then this last week—it wasn’t any better. But Steve wasn’t just there for me through that, he kept reminding me that my life doesn’t stop at this drama. Eventually, I’m going to be past all that and it’s just going to be me and my alpha, and when we get there, I’m not even going to remember what Pepper and Ty’s argument was about.

“So why did I pick Steve to be the first alpha to get a second one-on-one?” He smiles wistfully to himself, remembering Steve’s hand on his back as he guided him into the hotel after the concert. “Because there are alphas here who turn me on, there are alphas here who make me feel cherished, and there are alphas here who make me feel safe. But Steve does all three, and that’s why I’m falling for him.”

One of the production assistants might gasp when he admits that, but Steve’s gondola is pulling up the canal, and he loses track of the conversation when the sun hits Steve’s hair just right. Yeah, he can admit to being physically attracted to Steve. A lot of the alphas on this show are attractive to him, but there’s something about Steve’s bright blue eyes and golden hair and ever so slightly too-tight shirts that makes his knees go weak.

“Tony!” Steve exclaims, lighting up when he sees him with a beautiful boyish grin. “I got to ride in a gondola!”

Tony laughs, offering Steve a hand out of the boat. “I’m glad you enjoyed it because we’re going to do a lot of riding in a gondola today.”

“That sounds great,” Steve enthuses. He turns to the gondolier standing next to Tony and sticks his hand out. “Hi, I’m Steve.”

“Paolo,” the gondolier says, smiling at Steve’s enthusiasm.

“Have you ever ridden on one of these things before?”

Paolo chuckles. “Yes, sir. I live here.”

Steve blushes sheepishly. “Oh. Right.” He turns to Tony. “What about you?”

“Mmhmm,” Tony says, rocking up on his toes. “My mom’s family is from around here. We used to visit for Christmas.” His parents probably still visit for Christmas, but Tony lives on his own now and usually spends the holidays with Rhodey’s family.

Steve’s smile softens, and he leans in to kiss Tony’s cheek warmly, lingering for half a second more than polite. “That sounds amazing. Gotta admit I’m jealous. My family’s from Brooklyn.”

“But I love Brooklyn!” Tony protests.

“Because you don’t live there!” Steve counters.

“Gentlemen,” Coulson cuts in dryly. “If we can get going.”

“Right,” Steve says again, flushing. It’s an attractive blush, and Tony would love to kiss it off his cheek, but he still can’t help but feel annoyed by the interruption. It’s his date; shouldn’t he be allowed to spend it how he wants? Even if that’s sitting here, bantering with Steve for a while? “You said we’re going to be spending a lot of time in a gondola?”

“Yep,” Tony chirps because he’s still a goddamn professional even when he’s annoyed. “Paolo here is going to take us on a tour of the city.”

Steve’s eyes go delightfully big and round.

It takes them a while to get under way. First, Paolo gets into the back of the gondola, using the pole—funnily enough, called a palo—to steady them against the dock as Steve passes Tony in. He tries very hard not to have a 2005 Pride and Prejudice moment after Tony’s hand leaves his, but he’s not sure how well he succeeds. Tony’s hand is just so slight in his, warm and calloused from his time in the workshop, and it’s everything that he didn’t know he wanted.

Once Tony is settled against the other side, Steve himself gets into the gondola. He tucks up against Tony, who smiles up at him and nuzzles into his side until Steve puts his arm around him—which feels just as good as holding Tony’s hand had. From the quiet sigh Tony lets out, he guesses that he feels the same way.

He’s expecting that they’ll cast off then, but he’d forgotten that they’re on a TV show. Coulson follows them in, camera hoisted onto his shoulder with no apparent difficulty. Steve would mentally applaud him, but the addition of the extra person and the camera makes the gondola very cramped despite being oversized. He wishes that Coulson had stuck with the rest of the camera crew, who are either in another gondola following alongside them or walking along the sidewalks. Sure it would mean no closeups but at least it wouldn’t feel like the camera’s being shoved up his ass.

“How did you sleep?” Steve asks as Paolo pushes off. The gondola glides smoothly through the water, Paolo showing no hint of any difficulty from the added weight.

“Like the dead,” Tony moans, slumping against him. “I stayed up during the flight to offset the jet lag.”

“Tony, can we have you say that again,” Coulson calls, “but without saying ‘the dead’? We try not to imply any talk of death.”

Tony’s eyebrow arches. “What am I supposed to say? I slept like a baby? That’s kind of a misnomer, don’t you think? Babies sleep horribly. They’re up all night, they cry, they want milk, they—”

“Alright, never mind,” Coulson says, so mildly that Steve thinks he’s hiding how irritated he actually is.

Paolo coughs like he’s trying to hide a laugh.

Tony shifts so that he can face Steve more, though he refuses to move more than an inch from his side so it probably looks awkward. “Let’s talk about something else,” he says firmly. “Tell me about your art. What do you do?”

And truthfully, Steve could talk about that all day long, so he starts with, “Well, I’m best with charcoals…”

They glide through the canals of Venice, stopping occasionally to listen as Paolo tells them about the City of Masks.

For once, Steve arrives at the restaurant before Tony for the evening portion of their date. He tries not to pace outside of Alle Corone, fidgeting nervously as he smooths down the lapels of his pale pink suit. He wasn’t even this nervous on the last one-on-one, but now that he’s realized that he has something to lose, now that he knows that Tony’s safety isn’t the only thing he wants out of this show, he’s worried that Tony will send him home tonight. He isn’t ready for that. They’d had such a good date earlier, talking about Steve’s art and Tony’s taste in music and his ill-fated attempt to start a rock band in high school and Steve’s least favorite art teacher who graded on her own personal preferences rather than a standard rubric. It seems unfathomable that Tony will decide not to give him the rose tonight but it’s still hanging there.

He looks down to try to steady himself, fiddling with the mother-of-pearl cufflinks, and when he looks back up, the maître d’ is helping Tony out of his gondola. Steve immediately steps forward to assist but then the soft light from the lanterns hanging by the restaurant doors hits Tony’s frame, and Steve stops dead in his tracks, breath taken away.

Tony is beautiful all the time, he’s known that since the moment they met, but draped in layers of white chiffon over silk, delicate floral embroidery lining the deep v neckline, he looks stunningly ethereal. Steve’s eyes trace down his frame, from the neckline ending nearly at his navel to the shimmery pink leggings he wears under the skirt—matching Steve’s own suit, he thinks absently—to the white slippers on his feet.

All he can manage to breathe is, “Wow.”

Tony’s cheeks blush a pretty shade of red. “Yeah?”

Steve nods silently. “You look absolutely incredible, Tony.”

Tony preens, and Steve wants so badly to make him smile like that every single second of every day. He’s thought before that smug is a good look on him, but he hadn’t known then that he wanted to be the one to make him look like that. But he does, oh how badly he does.

“Shall we?” he asks, offering Tony his arm.

“We shall,” Tony agrees, resting his hand on the crook of his elbow.

While he was getting dressed, Peggy had informed Steve of the safety risk associated with the restaurant tonight: they hadn’t been willing to lose out on any profit by closing off the entire restaurant. Instead, they’d offered a private room to the production team. Steve doesn’t mind, but it does mean that they have to walk through the main dining room to get there, which falls silent as soon as the two of them enter with their entourage of cameras and crew members.

Steve’s nerves must display on his face because Tony squeezes his arm lightly and murmurs, “Nervous?”

“Not used to all the eyes in the room on me,” he replies truthfully.

Tony tosses his head and says imperiously, “Don’t worry. They’re all looking at me, not you.”

It both helps and it doesn’t. Sure, it makes him slightly less nervous to know that everyone is staring at the gorgeous fey creature at his side, but on the other hand—they’re looking at someone that Steve is rapidly coming to think of as his omega. He doesn’t want to be the caveman alpha, so jealous and possessive over his omega that he locks him away. But at the same time, he wants to shift in front of Tony so that they can’t see him anymore and simultaneously shout from the rooftops that he’s the one on a date with Tony, no one else.

The private room that they’re led to is reminiscent of a wine cellar, though admittedly, the only experience Steve has ever had with wine cellars is standing in the ones belonging to the people he guards as they pick out a bottle. But it’s earthy and dim, rows upon rows of empty wine racks set into the walls as the water in the canal outside lapping pleasantly against the building. A delicately carved piano stands guard in one corner, the bench empty of its player.

Tony’s eyes light up when he sees it. Steve looks between the piano and his date. “Do you play?” he asks.

“Mmhmm,” Tony nods eagerly. “My mama insisted on lessons. She thought it would make me look more appealing to any potential mate. She wasn’t expecting that I’d actually enjoy it.”

“There isn’t much call for a pianist in a rock band, though, is there?” Steve teases.

Tony gently elbows his side. He pretends to be winded by it, pleased when Tony laughs at him. “I can play the piano and the electric guitar, thank you very much. I contain multitudes.”

“I’m sure,” he says fervently. “Maybe you can play for me later? I’d sure love to hear you.”

Tony colors and demurs, “I’m not that good.”

“Please? I don’t know a Mozart piece from a Muzak. I won’t be able to tell if you’re awful.”

Laughing, Tony says, “Alright, then. You drive a hard bargain.” He jabs his finger in Steve’s direction. “But I don’t want to hear it if I make your ears bleed!”

Steve very much doubts that that’ll happen. He’s noticed that Tony has a habit of downplaying his talents. It wouldn’t surprise him if he’s practically a virtuoso, playing the keys with the sort of skill reserved for Julliard prodigies. But he keeps his opinion to himself; he doesn’t want to make Tony nervous and create a self-fulfilling prophecy. Besides, he’d rather heap praise on Tony after the fact, just to see that pleased smile again.

The conversation flows just as easily as it always does between them, just as easily as it had earlier in the day. It doesn’t feel nearly as heavy as it had last week, neither of them exploring any particularly hard or sensitive topics, but Steve still feels like he’s getting to know Tony all the better now. Relationships, he’s found, contrary to what the show presents, aren’t built entirely out of sharing a traumatic past. The little things, the simple things, the things that everyone else would think are trivial, are just as important as the big ones. And tonight, he wants to get to know the little things about Tony, not just what the show thinks are important.

As the dinner draws to a close, Darcy sidles up beside them to place the rose on the table. “Whenever you’re ready, Tony,” she says softly and slips back behind the camera again.

Tony nods, bracing himself. This might be the easiest rose he’s given out all season, he thinks to himself. Every moment he spends with Steve, he feels more at home, safer, and more assured of his place there. Steve makes falling in love feel so easy, in a way that Tony had thought was impossible before meeting him.

“Steve,” he says. Across the table, Steve straightens, an earnest, nervous expression overtaking his face. Tony chuckles to himself—does he really think that he isn’t going to give him this rose? That there was even the slightest chance he would send him home after such an amazing day? “Every time we talk, you open more of your heart to me. I can see the person inside your—admittedly attractive—façade, and I think that he’s incredible. Each moment that I spend with you makes me want to know more about you, and I’m really—” He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “I’m really starting to fall for you.”

Steve blinks, his eyes endearingly surprised. Then, a slow, sweet smile spreads across his face. He reaches out to take Tony’s hand, rubbing his thumb across the back. “Me too,” he whispers.

Tony’s heart feels like it’s going to explode with how full it is. “Then, Steve, will you accept this rose?”

“Absolutely, Tony,” Steve says immediately, holding still for Tony to pin the rose on his lapel.

“Alright, great,” Wong says, clapping his hands together and interrupting them. “Let’s go ahead and get packed—”

“Wait!” Tony exclaims, suddenly remembering. “I told Steve I would play the piano for him!”

“I—” Wong glances at Coulson.

“Tony, we’re running out of time for this room,” Coulson says gently.

“Please?” Tony begs. “I won’t pick a long piece. It won’t take too much time. You can even pack up while I’m playing.”

Coulson looks at him for a long time. Tony makes his eyes go big and liquid the way Howard always complained made him feel guilty even when he was completely in the right. It works on Coulson too. He sighs and says, “Fine. But only a few minutes. We need to get back to Rome at some point.”

“Great!” Tony says and scurries over to the piano, dragging Steve behind him. He sits, arranging his skirt so it falls behind him, brushing the stone floor. “Here, you sit next to me.”

He already knows what he’s going to play—Clair de Lune because he knows it like the back of his hand and something about it just feels right tonight. Steve is a warm line against his side on the bench, supportive and solid. Tony’s never had a partner who would sit and listen to him play like this—silently, offering neither criticism nor sarcastic comments about how long it was taking. He doesn’t dare look up to see Steve’s expression but the silence feels almost… enthralled. Like he doesn’t even chance a breath for fear of disturbing the music.

Tony closes his eyes and plays from memory, remembering his mother’s hands laid over his own as he tapped the keys, remembering Jarvis sitting next to him much the same as Steve does now, remembering Ana showing him countless operas so he knew how a crescendo works. His fingers traipse over the keys, almost floating at times, then tripping like falling water as the piece climbs and soars.

He wants to keep playing forever, but the piece has to come to an end eventually. His hands slow and then stop, fingers stilling as the last few notes ring out. Tony opens his eyes. Steve is still silent next to him, and, afraid to look at him in case he isn’t as enthralled as Tony had thought, he closes the lid, waiting, hoping.

Then—

“I hope your alpha tells you every day how incredible you are,” Steve says lowly.

Tony quickly turns his head, looking up at him. His breath freezes. The look on Steve’s face is more than just enthralled—it’s reverent.

“Steve,” he whispers, unable to say anything else.

Steve’s hand cups his cheek, slides back behind his neck to cradle his head. “May I?” he asks.

Tony nods silently, unwilling to speak for fear of breaking the spell.

Steve kisses him, softly, gently, once on the lips, once on each trembling eyelid, and back to his lips again. Another lingering kiss, then his tongue teases at the seam of his lips, and in a moment, it turns hot, hungry, wanting. Tony’s hands fist in Steve’s jacket, the satin fabric wrinkling in his grip. For the first time, it feels like Steve is really sure of this, of himself. Tony hasn’t surprised him, he isn’t uncertain about where his hands go or how far he can take this; Steve knows exactly what he wants, and what he wants is Tony panting, gasping for air as Steve’s tongue meets his.

Someone moans—maybe him—and then he’s weightless, airborne, only realizing what’s happened when he feels the wood of the piano beneath him. His thighs spread without him even thinking about it, Steve stepping into the space like it was made for him. His kisses trail down Tony’s throat, branding him like an iron. The bench gets shoved away—or maybe it falls, Tony doesn’t know and doesn’t care, except—

“Wait,” he gasps.

Steve’s hot mouth leaves his neck immediately, lips so red and slightly swollen but blue eyes worried. “What’s wrong? Is this too—”

“No,” Tony says immediately. “It’s—my skirt. I don’t want to rip it.”

“Oh,” Steve says, understanding immediately. “Well, that’s easy enough.” He holds Tony up with one hand, making his breath leave him in one gasp at how easily Steve holds him, and fishes the skirt out from underneath him with the other. It’s long enough that Steve drapes it over his arm as he leans in to kiss him again.

And Tony feels… worshipped.

Chapter Text

Steve is already waiting in the lounge when everyone else trickles in for the next date card. Given how methodical Tony is, he suspects that the next date card will be a group date, followed by one more one-on-one at the end of the week. He knows about two-on-ones and three-on-ones now, but he just doesn’t see Tony as the kind of person who would do something like that, especially after all the drama. They’ve all had enough of the in-fighting and arguing; he can’t imagine that Tony would want to invite more of that.

“Hey, man,” Sam says, dropping a hand onto Steve’s shoulder. “How was the date yesterday? I didn’t see you around today.”

“Hmm?” Steve asks, startled out of his thoughts. “Oh, it was good! We had a great date. I just decided to explore the city today.” He’d felt much more comfortable doing so than he had last week, knowing that Tony was visiting his mother’s family today instead of being cooped up in his hotel room.

“Yeah? You know any one of us would have gone with you.”

“I know,” Steve assures him as Sam plops down in the seat across from him. “I just wanted to get some time to think.”

“What’s there to think about?” Ty grouses, slouching past them. “You had a ‘great’ second date apparently with a gorgeous omega when most of us haven’t even had one date with him.”

“Ignore him,” Sam mutters. “He’s been in a bad mood the last two days.”

Steve was going to ignore him anyway—the best thing to do with Ty is to ignore him—but he appreciates the advice. Besides, it’s not like he can admit to what he was thinking about: whether or not to tell Tony about the real reason for his being there. He wants to tell him; it makes him nearly sick with guilt over keeping this secret from him. But it’s not just himself that he has to think about. He has his entire team too. Pierce has already threatened to fire all of them and sue for breach of contract if he doesn’t act enough like a legitimate contestant. He can’t imagine how much worse it would be if he just outright told Tony what he’s doing there. Even if they didn’t have to shut down the company from the legal fees—and reparations they’d have to pay Pierce if he won—they’d never recover their reputation from something like that.

It's a catch-22, and Steve is terrified that Tony’s going to get caught in the middle of it.

Luis knocks on the door. Steve puts the whole quandary out of his mind and gets up to get the card. There’s an uncharacteristically nervous look on Luis’s face when he passes it over.

“Thanks,” Steve says.

“Yeah,” Luis murmurs. He hesitates, then grabs Steve’s arm before he can turn away. “You should know that Pierce overrode Tony’s decision on this.”

Steve’s brow furrows. “What?”

“Yeah. Tony wanted to ask T’Challa on the one-on-one. Pierce decided he wanted someone else there instead.”

And judging by the expression on Luis’s face, Steve is afraid he knows exactly who that is.

“Thanks,” he says again. He’ll do what he can to mitigate the response he’s sure this announcement will get. “I appreciate you telling me that.”

“Yeah,” Luis says, nodding.

He heads back to the group, each step feeling heavier than the last. This could very well be the breaking point he’s been dreading. Some of the alphas could get physical if the person he’s afraid will get the one-on-one does. Perhaps reading his expression—or maybe they were forewarned—his team shifts into position nearest to the most volatile alphas.

Steve takes the date card out of the envelope and reads it over, eyes snagging on the scribbled out name at the bottom and the one replacing it. He purses his lips but it’s there, in black and white. Part of him wants to just say the original name and fuck this nonsense—none of the alphas would have any reason to suspect that he’s lying—but Pierce would want to know how he knew about the bait-and-switch and he doesn’t want to get Luis in trouble.

“Well?” Loki asks anxiously.

Steve takes a deep breath and begins, “’Bucky, Sam, Loki, Bruce, Natasha, Pepper, Janet, Wanda, Thor…’” He looks back up at the growing number of horrified faces as they pick up on whose name hasn’t been said yet. “’T’Challa.’” Ty’s face breaks out into the biggest grin. “’Love is a battlefield. Love, Tony.’” He can’t even be upset about the inclusion of the love, Tony part, too worried about Pierce’s overruling on this date to care.

“No,” Pepper declares angrily, rising to her feet to stomp over to the windows (somehow, she makes even stomping look graceful). “No. There’s no way. After last week?”

Ty smiles sleazily and tucks his hands behind his head as he leans back in his seat. “I knew Tony would see the truth eventually,” he says.

“Or maybe he just doesn’t want to deal with your bullshit on another group date,” Sam retorts.

Steve knows the real reason, of course, and it’s neither of those but he still can’t say it without revealing Luis’s help. Truthfully, he doubts that Tony even thought of minimizing the drama, particularly after his words to them when the week began. It’s much more likely that Tony had chosen his one-on-one based on who he thinks he can see a future with, believing that the drama would be over and done with. Steve just hopes that he's right and this doesn’t come back to bite him in the ass during the cocktail party.

“I’m excited, obviously,” Ty says smugly. “I’ve been waiting for this since receiving the first impression rose. I’m looking forward to not having any distractions from focusing on my relationship with him.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Don’t you think that it says something that you haven’t gotten a one-on-one—or even another rose—until now?”

Ty shoots him a dark glare. “No, I don’t. I think Tony was waiting for the right time for us. Truth be told, I’m glad it’s now. I was starting to reach the breaking point.”

Steve feels his eyebrows shoot up.

“The breaking point?” Sam repeats incredulously.

“Yeah,” Ty says heavily, dropping his arms back down. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. “I think after this, I’ll know for certain if I still want to be here."

"Excuse me?” Steve interjects, unable to keep quiet. After all he’s done, everything he’s put the rest of them through in the supposed name of love, Ty is thinking about quitting.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “Sorry, I don’t think I heard that one right.”

“No, I’m serious,” Ty argues. “You can’t tell me that none of the rest of you feel jealous watching Tony go on dates with other people.”

“Sure, but that’s what we signed up for,” Sam says. “We know going into this that we weren’t the only ones Tony was dating.”

“But there’s a difference between knowing that and watching Tony get close to other alphas,” Ty points out. Unfortunately, it’s a valid statement, and honestly, if he were anyone else, Steve would encourage them searching their feelings to determine if this is really something that they’re up for. But after all the drama that Ty has caused, he can’t help but feel resentful that Ty isn’t completely certain about staying. “All I’m saying is that I hope I find clarity in how I feel about him.”

“Good for you,” Bruce says, clapping his hands slowly. “But if you decide that you’re not interested in Tony that way, then do the rest of us a favor. Be honest about it. You’ve been back and forth this whole time, and we’re all sick of it. We’re done giving you the benefit of the doubt. Make up your mind.”

Steve glances at Pepper to check on her but his brain snags on the Colosseum just across the street. Love is a battlefield, Tony had written.

If his suspicions about this group date are correct… then maybe it’s a good thing Ty isn’t going.

“Absolutely not,” Tony says, glaring at the outfit Randi picked out for him today.

“Tony,” Darcy pleads.

“Darcy,” he mimics in the same tone. “Look at it. There’s barely anything there.”

“There’s plenty there,” Darcy protests. “It’s got a top and a bottom.”

“The top is crochet!” he nearly shrieks. “You can see my nipples!” It’s not that he minds being provocative in public, usually, but it’s different when he’s trying to look more mature for someone he’d like to potentially mate one day. He doesn’t want to appear on TV like this. He’s been in the tabloids too many times for looking stupid and ridiculous (trying to bring back gold hotpants comes to mind); he doesn’t want to do it again.

“So wear nipple pasties,” Darcy suggests reasonably, except that Tony doesn’t want reasonable at the moment.

“The shorts are going to crawl up my ass,” he complains.

“They’re not that short,” she sighs.

“And the overskirt drape thing looks ridiculous.”

“It’s high fashion.”

“Yes, I can tell that,” he says sourly, crossing his arms. He glares at the transparent overskirt like it’s personally offended him, which it has. It doesn’t even have the good sense to be attached to the shorts. It’s attached to the bottom of the shirt, which he just knows is going to bother him when he walks.

“It’s the color of wet sand,” he tries next.

“It’s sand green.”

“Exactly.”

“Tony. We didn’t bring anything else with us so either you go in this or you wear this to the one-on-one with Ty.”

“I’ll go out and buy one of those tourist shirts,” he threatens.

“You won’t.”

“I will,” he swears. “I’m not wearing this outfit and that’s final.”

He wears the outfit.

“Ooh is that Elie Saab?” Janet squeals when she sees it, practically sprinting across the sandy arena to get closer and investigate.

“It is,” he says, trying not to sound like it’s coming through gritted teeth.

“It’s gorgeous.”

“…Thanks.” He decides that he’s done having this conversation, so he holds out his arms, gesturing to the wide-open space around them. “Welcome to the Colosseum! Be honest, how many of you visited yesterday?”

A couple sheepish hands lift into the air. Tony laughs brightly and says, “Well, today you’ll be experiencing the Colosseum in a whole new way because today, we have been given special permission by the Vatican to host our very own gladiatorial games.”

On cue, two men burst out of the far gates, charging towards each other with swords raised over their heads. The first ducks low for an underhand swipe but the second leaps into the air and somersaults over him, coming up on his feet with his sword raised for a parry. The fight is obviously choreographed—and well done at that—but Tony can admit to being impressed. He hadn’t gotten a chance to meet either reenactor before the alphas arrived, but he knows that both of them are extremely famous in the world of reenactment, performing these gladiator battles all over the world.

The fight comes to its thrilling conclusion with the first man holding his sword to the second’s throat and the second with a hidden dagger held to the first’s stomach. They laugh off the stalemate and, slinging arms around each other, approach the enthralled group. They take up positions on either side of him, resting their sword tips on the sand.

“Alphas, this is Marc Spector,” he says, indicating the alpha on his left, “and Xu Shang-Chi,” gesturing to the omega on his right. “They are world-renowned battle reenactors. Marc specializes in Roman history; Shang-Chi is a martial artist, but he’s spending a semester studying here in Rome, so he’s picked up a few things. And today, they’re going to be your instructors in the gladiatorial games.”

“Are you ready for this?” Marc asks.

“Yeah!” Thor exclaims heartily, hand flexing at his side like it’s just itching for a weapon.

“Absolutely,” Bucky enthuses.

“You’ll be learning and participating in our version of the ancient Roman gladiator games,” Marc says. He smirks. “But don’t worry. We don’t want to see anyone taking a trip to the hospital today, so we’re not throwing you to the lions or using anything sharp. Today is just for fun—and to prove your love.”

“Yeah!” the alphas cheer as Tony straightens up, grinning at them.

“This isn’t just about strength or physical ability,” Shang-Chi explains, eyeing Janet’s petite form. Though, if Tony had to put money on any one alpha, he certainly wouldn’t discount her. Janet can be fierce he’s noticed. “It’s about your heart too, and your desire for this omega to leave on your arm. So, are you ready for this?”

A rousing cheer from the alphas.

“I said—are you ready for this?” Shang-Chi shouts.

Another cheer—this one so loud that it nearly makes the ancient walls tremble.

“Your training begins now,” Marc says. He approaches Thor, getting right up in his face. “I want to see your war face!” he growls, a truly terrifying look on his face.

“A war face!” Thor shouts, snarling.

“Your war face!” Marc snarls at Sam.

“Argh!” Sam roars.

And it looks like so much fun that Tony steps up to Loki and yells, “Aah!”

“Aah!” Loki yells right back at him, and Tony breaks into giggles. Loki laughs with him and hugs him, swaying the two of them back and forth.

“Alright,” Shang-Chi says once the yelling is over. He ushers the alphas over to a table filled with weapons that the gophers brought in. “Let’s talk a little bit about the kinds of weapons that a gladiator would use in the arena.”

Tony is meant to actually be participating in the training portion today, rather than just watching like he had last week at the rodeo. He goes to follow, but a slim hand on his arm stops him short. He glances down to see Natasha, frowning slightly at him.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she assures him, “it’s just—” She bites her lip. “I don’t think I’m medically cleared for this kind of activity yet.”

“Oh!” Tony exclaims and gives her arm a worried look. “Is it still bothering you?” He’d actually been worried about this when Pierce first told him what they’d be doing, but he’d been assured that Natasha would be fully healed by the time this came around.

“A bit,” she admits, which he appreciates. He’d rather she sit out than be injured further just to impress him.

“Do you think you can do the first part? I’ve been told it’ll just be learning about the history of the gladiators and some drills.”

“Maybe.”

“Alright, well, don’t overdo it. As soon as it starts to hurt, you can come sit with me, okay?”

She smiles at him and leans up to kiss his cheek. “Okay, Tony.”

The first part is indeed a lot of learning. They learn about the history of the games and about the kinds of weapons are laid out on the table—the weighted net and the trident, the dagger and the gladius, the short sword and the spear. They learn about the history of the Colosseum itself and the restoration efforts that are being done to bring her back to glory. They even learn a bit about the organization that Marc and Shang-Chi are a part of and where they perform since the Vatican doesn’t usually allow such spectacles in the historical site. Today’s filming is actually being used as a fundraiser with tickets sold to the general public (and long since sold out) since the structure is finally able to seat thousands once more. Tony had worried that the spectators would find the few fights done by his alphas boring and silly, since none of them are professional fighters, but he’s been assured that The Bachelorette may open the festivities but Marc and Shang-Chi’s organization will be the main draw after them.

From there, they move on to actual practice, first with plain old training dummies, then with a set of moving dummies. Tony is actually very surprised to find out that most of the alphas there have some sort of experience with fighting, though not necessarily the kind needed for this sort of reenactment. Thor is a brawler, both Sam and T’Challa have martial arts training, Wanda and Natasha have self-defense training, Loki fenced competitively throughout secondary school, and Janet and Bucky both box in their free time.

Tony will admit to feeling a little slick trickle between his cheeks as he watches his alphas handle their weapons—and themselves—so competently. So sue him; he has a competence kink and he’s not afraid to admit it.

Of course, hand-to-hand combat doesn’t necessarily translate to some of the other skills in the games—most notably the rete, or weighted net, that they practice casting. All eight alphas are able to handle it easily enough when they’re just casting it on top of the regular training dummies, even Loki who doesn’t come with the benefit of practicing lassoing last week, but when they’re upgraded to the moving dummies, it’s chaos. Tony winces, watching cast after cast miss—Thor even accidentally gets one of the unmanned POV cameras instead of the dummy. He wonders how Steve would handle this. When they’d been talking yesterday, he’d mentioned making money during college by hustling pool; maybe that would translate to throwing a net at a moving target.

“Tony, what are you thinking?” Coulson asks him as he’s waiting for his turn.

His mouth twists as Bruce throws… and misses. “I think these alphas need a lot more practice with their aim,” he says goodnaturedly. “Guess I’ll just have to show them how it’s done.”

He steps up, focusing on the training dummy. It’s not moving very fast, and though it’s a long, complicated pattern, there is a pattern to its movements for him to analyze. It doesn’t look like anyone else noticed that, though, or he’d imagine they might have had better luck. His eyes narrow, tracking the dummy as it feints left, swerves backwards, then forwards. Subconsciously, his brain goes through any variable that’ll affect how he throws—the wind speed, the direction, the weight of the net in his hand.

He throws—and the net sails through the air and successfully entangles the dummy. Tony immediately tightens the drawstring around his wrist, watching the cord grow taut between him and the dummy before it brings the dummy crashing to the ground.

“Oh!” Tony shouts, jumping up and down. “Did you see that? Did you see that?” He points at the toppled dummy, shouting wordlessly his success. The alphas are just as loud, cheering for him while he crows. “Bow before me, peons! Bow for your king!”

Laughing, the alphas bow to him, Loki and Thor both being overly dramatic and flourishing their bows.

From there, the alphas split off into pairs to spar against each other, nonlethal of course, and honestly kind of funny since most of them have no idea what they’re doing and are just kind of whaling on each other, but still fun to watch.

“Tony,” Coulson calls him over, “let’s get a quick soundbite from you before the competition starts.”

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees, wishing he had pockets in this ridiculous outfit to put his hands in. “What’s up?”

“How about you tell us what it is that you’re hoping for from this date?”

Tony tilts his head to the side and considers it. It hadn’t been his idea to have the date here at the Colosseum. Tony had actually proposed just going out and exploring the city, but Pierce had recommended something more dramatic. He hasn’t really thought about what he’s hoping to see in his ideal alpha and—he realizes suddenly that part of that is because he’s not entirely convinced that his ideal alpha is here. Yesterday, he said that Steve is one of the only alphas here who makes him feel cherished, desired, and safe all at the same time, but now he’s wondering if maybe he should be the only one who makes him feel that way. He likes a lot of the alphas here, and plenty of them make his heart beat faster, but there’s something about them that doesn’t make him see a future.

“I’m looking for strength,” he says eventually because it feels like the easiest answer (still true, though). “Not just physical strength—although yeah, I’d like it if the alpha I marry physically turns me on; getting carried to bed is hot and I highly recommend that every omega experiences it at least once—but I’m looking for strength of heart too. A brave heart—someone who’s not afraid to take on a challenge like this and stare a sword right down the blade.”

Coulson nods. “Do you think that—"

Someone yelps.

Tony whirls around as his heart leaps into his throat. He immediately focuses in on Loki, who’s on the ground and holding his foot. Wanda, his sparring partner, is standing over him, sword pointed out the ground with a worried look on her face. He sprints across the sand, reaching Loki right as Marc asks him, “What happened?”

“Twisted my ankle, I think,” Loki pants.

“Hmm,” Marc says. “Let me see.” Loki obligingly moves his hand and lets Marc poke and prod at his ankle, hissing whenever he hits a tender spot. “Doesn’t look like it’s swelling, and you can still move it, but I’d still recommend that you sit the rest of today out.”

Loki tips his head back and sighs. “Wonderful,” he grouses. He gives Tony a rueful look. “I hope you and Natasha don’t mind me joining you.”

“Not at all,” Tony says truthfully. He’d mind more if it was just Loki or just Natasha, as it reminds him of Rumiko’s ploy to get him to spend private time with her since she couldn’t swim, but both of them out with injuries? That’s a little hard to fake. “Come on, I’ll help you over.”

As he’s helping Loki up, he hears Sam mutter to Bucky, “You know, even with Loki’s injury, this is the calmest group date we’ve had yet—and I can’t help but notice that Ty isn’t here.”

Tony misses a step, ears ringing with Sam’s words. He hadn’t even noticed it, but Sam’s right. This is the first group date in weeks that’s been so close to drama-free—and Ty isn’t here.

“Steve,” Wong says.

“No,” Steve replies immediately, not even looking up from his sketchbook.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to say that you want me to film a confrontation with Ty ahead of his one-on-one in two days.”

“…Fine. Maybe I was,” Wong concedes but then hurries to add, “But the two of you have been boring today. Nothing to film at all! Ty tried to sneak out to the Colosseum but your security team put a stop to that before he could even make it down to the lobby.”

“Good,” Steve says firmly. “That’s their job.”

Wong frowns at him. “At least give me a confrontation. There’s always one between the villain and the frontrunner once the villain gets their first one-on-one.”

That’s interesting. Steve had suspected when Pierce told him that there were other contestants he was more invested in keeping on that Ty was one of them, but to hear outright that he’s earned the “villain” moniker for the season is a whole other ball game. He makes a mental note of it to inform his team once this conversation is done.

He argues, “I’m not going to give you the drama you want. I’m literally here to minimize the amount of drama on this season.”

“Not even to make sure that Ty doesn’t torpedo anyone else?” Wong asks slyly.

Steve glares at him. The problem is that Wong has a point and they both know it. Odds are high that Ty will avoid everyone tomorrow just so that no one can tell him to keep his mouth shut and therefore, when he does try to get someone else kicked off, he can argue that no one told him not to. This is the best opportunity he has to remind Ty that no one else is falling for his schemes.

“Fine,” he says irritably, slamming his sketchbook closed. “But once I’m done, that’s it. No more filming today.”

“Agreed,” Wong says quickly, likely so Steve doesn’t have the chance to change his mind.

He follows Wong to where Ty is waiting in the same lounge where they received the group date card yesterday. Ty is sitting at the bar, a half-empty martini glass sitting on the counter in front of him. He swirls the olive stick around and around, looking as bored as Wong had claimed to be.

Steve slides onto the barstool next to Ty. Ty glances at him sidelong, expression unimpressed. “Hi,” Steve says quietly.

“What do you want?” Ty asks bluntly.

Geez, what is this guy’s problem? Is he this much of an asshole when he’s not in front of a camera too?

“I figure we’ve both got the same problem,” he says, gesturing at Wong and the cameras filming them.

Ty looks backwards at the crew and sniffs. “I don’t see any problem.”

“Oh, so they haven’t been hounding you for anything?” Steve asks, genuinely curious. He’d be interested in learning the answer, to know just how much of Ty’s bullshit is egged on by the production team and not just from his own mind.

“No,” Ty says shortly, “and I wouldn’t tell you even if they have. I assume you’re here for some petty confrontation? Get on with it then and leave me to my drink.”

Steve exhales slowly. He should have expected this belligerence. Somehow, Ty surprises him every time though. “Okay,” he says calmly. “I don’t really want to have a confrontation. I just want to have a friendly chat about what you intend to tell Tony on your date.”

Ty raises a sardonic eyebrow. “Because you’ve all convinced yourself that I’m the bad guy just because Tony likes me? I’ve got news for you, mate. All I intend to tell him is the truth.”

“The legitimate truth or the truth as you see it?” Steve queries. “There’s a difference between the two but you’ve been presenting the second as the first.”

“You weren’t even—” Ty starts, incensed, but Steve refuses to sink to his level.

He continues calmly, “You have, on multiple occasions now, questioned if you want to be here.”

“I’ve never questioned that,” Ty snaps.

“You did that just last night.”

“Last night?”

“Yes, last night, you questioned if you truly wanted to be here.”

“Woah, woah, woah. What are you talking about?” Ty asks, frowning in a way that would look completely genuine if Steve weren’t wise to his tricks by now. “I never said anything about that.”

“You can’t gaslight me into thinking that you didn’t,” Steve replies, forcing himself to remain calm. Is this how he’s been treating Tony? Making him question the things that he’s heard, making him question himself?

“What exactly do you think that I said?” Ty pushes. “From the first date, my feelings for Tony haven’t changed, so I don’t know what you think I said, but you heard wrong.”

Steve refuses to engage with this line of nonsense anymore. He knows the truth. Ty knows the truth. There are other things that still need to be said. “Let’s say that you didn’t say that, then. We can talk about something else. We can talk about your attempts to convince Tony that Pepper is here for the wrong reasons.”

Ty scoffs, rubbing his hand over his face. “Not this fucking bullshit again. I told you, I told Tony, that—”

“Save it,” Steve says firmly, shutting him down. “We both know the truth. You can stop pretending. I want to make sure that you’re not going to do this to anyone else. Tony has given us multiple opportunities for us to leave if we don’t want to be here. People have, in fact, taken him up on that offer, in case you missed it. At this point, no one is here for anything other than dating Tony, so it doesn’t matter what you think, and I’ll thank you—we’ll all thank you—to keep your opinions to yourself.”

Ty leans back, studying him through narrowed eyes, and this, this, Steve feels is the real Tiberius Stone. The jovial, reminiscent, concerned-for-Tony fratboy image that he’s been projecting this entire time is only the public-facing layer that Ty puts on for the world. The real Ty is cold and calculating and here for reasons that Steve hasn’t sussed out yet, but he will—and as soon as he does, Ty will be off this show in the blink of an eye.

“Pepper was middle of the pack,” Ty says coolly. “She’s nothing. She was easy. You’re out in front. Aren’t you worried I’ll try to do it to you too?”

“No,” Steve says calmly. Ty is smart enough to know that it won’t work twice, but he doesn’t point that out. If he’s wrong, and Ty will try it again, then Steve doesn’t want to put the idea of something else in his head and give him reason to try something that he isn’t prepared for. “You said it yourself: I’m the only one who’s gotten two one-on-ones so far. That means something to Tony. I’m not an easy target anymore.”

Ty’s lip curls up. “Well,” he says and lifts his glass in a silent toast. “I suppose we’ll see if that’s true, won’t we?”

The Colosseum is packed. Thousands of tourists and Romans alike have crowded into the renovated arena to watch the gladiatorial games this afternoon. As the reason for this whole event, Tony is seated in what would have been the equivalent of the royal box thousands of years ago. Natasha sits next to him, her hand resting on his knee. Loki, on the other hand, is sitting behind him, and his hands are not idle. They card through Tony’s hair lazily, soothing and distracting at the same time. If this is what a future as Loki’s mate would look like, it sounds pretty decent actually. He loves his hair being played with.

Bucky and Sam circle each other in the arena, gladii held tightly in their hands. It’s been a long afternoon; this is the third round of fights from the Bachelorette alphas, and thankfully, the crowd is just as enthusiastic as they’ll be later for the professional reenactors. Bucky and Sam have made it past the first two rounds, knocking out Janet, Bruce, Thor, and T’Challa in four impressive battles to get here.

Tony had been curious to know how the brackets had been set up for this miniature tournament, if there’d been any kind of consideration for background to determine a first-place seed or if it had come down to how well they’d done during practice. Marc had confessed to him, however, that it had quite literally been a coin flip: T’Challa, Wanda, Bucky, and Janet on the left side of the bracket, and Thor, Pepper, Sam, and Bruce on the right side. Whatever the case, the first four battles had been breathtaking with Thor and Pepper’s match lasting the longest, the two of them well-matched as, despite Pepper’s inexperience, her ferocity had nearly netted her the win. But Thor had prevailed, only to lose against Sam in the next round.

So now it’s just Bucky and Sam, and truthfully, Tony would be happy with it going either way. He worries that that might mean something, that he doesn’t truly care which one wins, but he resolves to put that aside for now. He can think about that later, like in the middle of the night when he’s worrying about eliminations at the end of this week.

The gladii meet, the sun flashing off the blades as the two alphas struggle for dominance. Tony’s breath catches in his throat, watching their muscles flex. He may not care who wins, but he can admit how incredibly attractive an alpha working so hard is. Bucky’s metal arm ripples, the servos whirring, but somehow, somehow, Sam is a match for it.

He twists his wrist, steps to the side, and Bucky, still using his full strength, is caught off balance. Bucky fumbles, stumbling past Sam with a growing look of defeat in his eyes. Sure enough, Sam uses the moment to his advantage, smacking Bucky’s back with the flat of the blade to send him flying further. And when Bucky recovers, Sam’s gladius is there, pointed at his throat. Tony can’t hear him over the din but he sees Sam’s lips form the word, “Yield.”

Bucky bows his head and drops his sword to the ground, conceding defeat.

The crowd goes wild. Tony leaps to his feet, cheering wildly as he flies down the steps to the sand. Sam barely has time to toss his sword away before Tony is on him, tackling him to the ground.

“You were incredible!” Tony shouts.

Sam’s arms come up to wrap around his waist. “It’s all for you,” he swears, and Tony kisses him, the crowd’s cheers ringing in his ears.

Chapter Text

Despite Wong’s promise that Steve wouldn’t have to do any more filming for the rest of the day, he’s unsurprised when he shows right back up after dinner. He should’ve known that Pierce wouldn’t let it go that easily. At least Wong has the good grace to look sheepish.

“Don’t tell me,” Steve says tiredly. “Pierce wants us to film the date card now instead of tomorrow.”

“He says it would look better if it’s just the two of you,” Wong says apologetically. “I think he just doesn’t want to deal with the mess if Ty runs off so he doesn’t have to talk to any of you tomorrow.”

Steve inclines his head in agreement. And, truth be told, as irritating as it is to be interrupted for the second time today, it’s probably easier this way too. He won’t have to deal with any of the other alphas and their reaction to Ty’s date card. He won’t have to stress about a fight breaking out. And he won’t have to stress about Ty being so smug about whatever Tony writes that he makes someone snap.

“Alright,” he says standing and following Wong out. “What is it he wants from me?”

“You’ll be glad to know it’s easy,” Wong says. “You won’t even have to talk to him. Just a silent confrontation between the two of you and then when the date card comes, you get up and walk out.”

That does sound easy, but Steve feels a little pang that he won’t get to see what the date card says. It’s funny; he wouldn’t have thought that he’d get this wrapped up in the mechanics of the show, but it’s fun trying to figure out what the card will say and what the clue is hinting towards and why Tony might have chosen those alphas for that date.

Maybe… if he’s lucky… “What does the date card say?” he asks cautiously.

Wong snickers. “Getting curious now?” he teases, elbowing Steve’s side gently. “Don’t worry. Tony didn’t sign it with a ‘love.’”

“Oh,” Steve says. He’s happy about it for sure, but he can’t help but wonder if it’s because Pierce picked the alpha for Tony or if Tony genuinely feels that way. “But—”

“I know. It says, ‘All’s fair in love and poetry.’”

Huh. That’s an odd one—and he can’t help but notice that the word Tony chose to replace in there is “war.”

What does it mean?

“Before you go in,” Wong says, stopping him just before Steve opens the door, “I thought you might like to get a look at your boy tonight.”

“He’s not—” Steve starts to say but then stops when he sees the picture Wong is showing him. Tony is getting out of the car at La Pergola, his hand in Coulson’s to steady him, and Steve’s breath catches at the sight of him. They’ve put Tony in a corset tonight. A beautiful, lavender corset with silver branches across the bottom. The branches actually stretch beneath the hem of the corset over the top of the matching organza pants, halfway down his thighs. It must have been uncomfortable to put on but he looks stunning.

“Wow,” he whispers, unable to find any other words.

Wong smirks. “You’re ready,” he says, opens the door, and shoves Steve inside.

La Pergola is a rooftop restaurant about a mile away from the River Tiber, which is clearly visible outside the windows. The lights of Rome glitter from the high rise, capturing Tony’s attention as soon as they walk inside. The restaurant, like many of the others they’ve been to this season, doesn’t have any private rooms, but unlike the others, the production team rented out the hotel rooms on the top floor so that Tony can have private conversations with any of the alphas.

The cynical part of his brain wonders if they’re hoping that he’ll lose control and attempt to fuck someone tonight—typical Tony, right?

He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what he’d heard Sam say, about the lack of drama today coupled with Ty’s absence. Is it just coincidence? Or is it, as Sam had said, the cause? Is Ty truly at the heart of all the drama? Is he truly just as bad as everyone had insisted he was last week? He thinks about the date card that he’d scribbled out while he was getting dressed before coming over here. He had come so close to writing down something like “Let’s figure this out one way or another.” But at the last second he’d stopped and written down the usual clue instead.

Why had he done that?

“So, Tony,” Coulson says, “what are you hoping for from tonight?”

He thinks about it for a moment, about what Ty’s absence means for him and what he’s hoping for if the drama-free night continues. He finally says, “I’m hoping that I’ll be able to really focus on the other relationships here without Ty—without drama—being part of the equation.”

“What do you mean?”

His hands twitch, itching for something to fiddle with as he so often does when he’s nervous. “I don’t know, I guess—we’ve been so busy with all the drama of the last few weeks that I really haven’t had a chance to talk to anyone about what a relationship with them could look like. I don’t even know if Wanda is expecting us to go back to Sokovia!” he jokes with a little laugh. “I just feel like the drama—and Ty, since he caused a lot of it last week, and I can admit that, even if I think it was just a misunderstanding—have been the focus of the evening dates, and I’m ready to move past that. This should be about moving our relationships in the right direction, not stupid he-said-she-saids. I’m looking forward to tonight and being in the moment with these alphas without having to worry about an argument breaking out somewhere.”

“Oh, wow,” he hears behind him and turns, smiling as the alphas trail in from the hallway. Ty is something to worry about in two days. Tonight is about him and the alphas that he’s here with. He can focus on them and put Ty out of his mind.

“Hell of a view, isn’t it?” he asks, waving at the window.

“It is,” Sam says, eyeing him first. “And the river’s not too bad either.”

Tony looks down, blushing. He doesn’t know what it is about this show that makes him so shy in front of these alphas when normally he’d be flirting back just as strongly. But here they are.

“Is that the Vatican?” Pepper marvels, breaking the moment. She moves to the window, gaping at the Sistine Chapel only a few blocks away.

“It is,” Tony says and winks slyly at her. “So watch what you say or I’ll have you excommunicated.”

“Oh, are you Catholic?” Janet asks curiously.

He shrugs. “My mama is.” Which is true and also easier than explaining his agnosticism on a show that has a large Christian fanbase.

Champagne glasses are already set out around the table where the date rose is waiting, so it’s nothing to take his seat. Loki sits down on his left, his thigh warmly pressed against Tony’s; Bucky takes the seat on his right. Janet looks a little put out that she hadn’t been able to snag one of the seats next to him but settles directly across from him instead.

“Did you all have fun today?” he asks once everyone else is seated. He picks up his champagne glass.

“Absolutely,” Thor enthuses.

“A blast,” Sam agrees over the enthusiastic agreement.

“What about you two?” he asks Loki and Natasha. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to participate in the tournament.”

“It would have thrown the bracket off,” Natasha says reassuringly.

Loki purrs, “Getting to spend time with you is much better than proving myself as a gladiator.”

“Good,” Tony says, knocking his shoulder against Loki’s, a warm glow in his stomach. “As it should be.” He lifts his glass up for the toast. “Cheers to opening up our hearts to each other, finding strength of the heart, and continuing to develop our relationship. Cheers.”

“Cheers!”

The moment glasses have been put down, Tony turns to Sam and asks, “You want to go—?” He jerks his thumb at the grand staircase leading down to the next floor.

“Absolutely, baby,” Sam says with a warm smile. Tony notices that he’s still wearing the laurel crown he was gifted for winning earlier. As they’re walking down, Sam adds lowly, “Thank you for asking me first.”

“You won the tournament,” Tony says lightly. “You deserve to be first.”

He ducks into the first room he sees, an elegant suite with a spectacular view of the river. Sam settles down on the couch, Tony taking the seat next to him, pressed together from shoulder to knee. He has no idea which one of them moves first, but they’re kissing suddenly, and it’s… incredible. Sam makes sparks fly in his stomach, lighting him up inside like a firework on New Year’s. His hands are on Sam’s head, knocking the laurel crown askew; Sam’s are on his back above the corset, smoothing his skin and taking his breath away with their breadth.

“I missed you when you were on that one-on-one,” Sam murmurs.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” He pulls back but only enough for Tony’s hands to slide down to his shoulders. “I fought extra hard today, ‘cause I knew, if I won, I’d get to spend a little extra time with you.”

“And it paid off!” Tony says delightedly, pleased to hear that at least one person had deliberately tried to win, not to earn the glory for themselves, but so that they could spend more time with him. “You won!”

“I did,” Sam exclaims, grinning at him. “I won!” His eyes darken, and one of his hands slips down Tony’s back and curves around his hip to pull him slightly towards him. “Do I win anything else other than this crown?”

“Hmm, how about my undying respect?” Tony teases.

“Sounds nice, but I was actually thinking of something a little more tangible.” His fingers press just slightly, making Tony’s breath hitch. Still, he’s got a plan, and he’s going to see it through.

“Tangible, huh?” He glances over at Coulson and holds out his hand. “May I?”

Coulson nods and passes over the piece of paper Tony was asking for. Sam’s brow is adorably furrowed when Tony turns back to him, and he can’t resist reaching up to smooth it out.

“So,” he says, “I was talking to Marc, and he says that gladiators were pretty much second-class to the citizens of Rome. They usually didn’t have voting rights; they were barely even considered human.”

“Slaves,” Sam says flatly, the smile dropping away from his face.

“Yeah,” Tony agrees. “Usually, if you won, your reward was getting to live to fight again. Sometimes, if a gladiator was particularly favored by the emperor, they might win their freedom, but I wasn’t comfortable with pretending to do that.” Sam’s mouth quirks up just a little. “So I asked him if there was something else we could do instead, and he told me that on very rare occasions, a freed gladiator might actually be gifted land.” He presents the piece of paper with a flourish. “Congratulations, Sam, you are now the owner of a whole five square feet up near Tuscany on my grandparents’ vineyard.”

Sam’s mouth drops open. “No way.”

Tony nods, grinning widely. “Yep. I asked my grandparents when I saw them yesterday, and they thought it was a great idea. Nick submitted the paperwork while we were on the way over.”

“Oh my god,” Sam breathes. “Wait ‘til I tell my sister about that. She’ll never believe it.”

“She better, ‘cause it’s real!”

“Holy shit, that is amazing.” The smile on Sam’s face turns softer as he turns it on Tony. “You’re amazing. Come here, baby.”

Tony happily goes where he leads him, which is right on top of his lap. The organza of his pants is too stiff for him to straddle him, but he sits across his legs instead, Sam’s hand under him cradling him as the other tips his chin to kiss him.

“I’m glad you like it,” he whispers into another kiss that makes his head spin. “I was—oh—” He cuts off when Sam’s lips start to trail down his neck. His kiss burns like a brand, leaving fire in its wake. “I was hopeful.”

“I love it,” Sam says, nipping at his throat. “Can I leave a mark?”

“Who cares?” Tony says, drawing his face back up for another long, lingering kiss.

“Me,” Coulson interjects. The interruption is so funny, so unexpected, and so dry that Tony pulls away to tuck his face into Sam’s neck and laughs, body shaking with the force of it. “No, you cannot leave any marks that Makeup will have to cover up.”

“Spoilsport,” Tony mutters, and Sam snickers.

“Come back up here,” he croons, kissing the shell of Tony’s ear until he lifts his head away with a sharp gasp. “I just wanted to tell you how much I like spending time with you.”

“Mm I like spending time with you too,” Tony says and kisses him. Distantly, he thinks he hears the suite door open, but for once, they’re uninterrupted, the moment spinning on to eternity.

“Shall we play a game?” Natasha drawls, spinning the cue stick between her fingers.

Tony eyes her slinky red dress, the pool table behind her, and the heated look in her eyes. Personally, he very much doubts that they’ll be playing much pool. But he can’t help but be intrigued—and maybe he wants to show off a little bit. Never play pool with a physics major; you’ll certainly lose.

“Alright,” he agrees, taking a step forward. Her invitation is so blatant, so heated, that he feels himself start to slick. He wonders if she knows the effect she has on him, and then he snorts. Of course she knows. She wouldn’t act like this if she didn’t.

“You can go first,” he invites, waving her on.

“Not you?” Natasha asks, adopting a pouting moue.

He smiles wryly. “I shouldn’t.” At least if she breaks, it won’t be as awkward when he sweeps. If he goes first, she won’t get a single opportunity to play, and that would just be a shame. He bets she’ll look spectacular bent over the pool table.

Except…

He should’ve known she’d hustle him. She takes one shot, sinks two balls, lines up another, and it just doesn’t stop. Tony watches her in awe, acutely aware that he’s been tricked. He doesn’t care, though. Watching her competently handle the cue is too damn hot to care that she definitely planned this. He’s slick, so much so that he prays it’s not showing through his pants, and he just wants to sink to his knees and bare his throat and beg for a knot.

Natasha sinks the last ball into the pocket and smirks sultrily at him. “Still think you want to go second?” she asks.

It’s too much for him. “Please,” he begs, not even sure what he’s asking for.

Thank fuck Natasha knows, though. She stalks towards him, green eyes as dark as the sky before a tornado—and that’s exactly what hits him. His mind whirls, chaotic as a hurricane, as she pins him against the pool table and her mouth descends on his. Someone whines—probably him—and then he’s being lifted up onto the table. Natasha climbs over him and pushes him flat, straddling his hips. Her red hair falls like a curtain around him, trapping him in ruby-tinged darkness.

She kisses him again. His mind goes blissfully blank.

Coulson tuts at his tousled state when he emerges. “Let’s make sure you haven’t ruined anything,” he sighs.

Tony, mentally feeling like he’s still trapped under Natasha’s slight weight, can’t bring himself to care anymore.

Randi checks his outfit, declares that he’ll need to throw his panties out but the pants are still good, and relaces him into his corset. Angie touches up his makeup, winks at him, and tells him that he looked like he had fun. Tony is more interested in hearing about her blossoming relationship with Peggy, the bodyguard, than her sly remarks, but to his delight, as soon as he mentions it, she turns shy. She must be serious about her then.

“How has tonight been going so far?” Coulson asks him after Angie finishes up.

“It’s been… more than I could have expected,” he says, thinking about the first kiss he’d shared with Pepper right before meeting with Natasha. “The alphas have been so amazing, and—I finally feel like things are going right. That this is how it’s supposed to be, how it should’ve been all along.” He gives Coulson a lost, wide-eyed look. “Was it supposed to be this easy the entire time?”

He's been thinking that there was something wrong with him, that he was the reason why this season has been so hard when everyone else he grew up with said that it was easy. But now, today, like this, it all came together. If the rest of this season goes the way this week has gone, he can’t wait.

“I had a lot of fun today,” he admits. “I’m really hopeful that my alpha is here and I can find a future with them.”

“You pushing me motivates me,” Bruce says, rubbing his thumb over the back of Tony’s hand. They’re sitting in one of the other bedrooms, sunk into a plush couch that overlooks the Balduina area. It’s not as gorgeous a view as the Vatican, but it’s still historically beautiful. “When I lost Betty, I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to love anyone else again. But then I met you, and you make me hope that there’s more out there.”

Tony feels his heart melt at the simple, earnest confession. He’ll admit that Bruce is someone he’s on the fence about. He likes spending time with him, a lot, and being able to talk science with someone who can keep up. But his history with Betty has worried him a bit, making him question if Bruce is truly ready to move on from such a horrific tragedy.

“Yeah?” he asks, needing to hear the reassurance.

“I think that I’m finally ready to take the next step,” Bruce says. “I want to fight for you. I’ve realized that over the last two weeks. If anyone wants to hurt you, I want to protect you from them.”

Tony smiles and leans in for a kiss, but as quickly as his worries about Betty had been assuaged, another one pops up. He doesn’t know all the details, but the crew gossip a lot, and he knows that Bruce is one of the alphas who’s had the most problems with Ty. And with what he’d just said, Tony can’t help but question if Bruce truly is ready for a relationship, if he does like him, or if he’s just trying to protect him from someone he thinks is a threat.

“I am really loving you rocking the purple look tonight,” Tony tells Bucky, gesturing to the deep violet suit. “I appreciate an alpha who can feel confident wearing something like that.”

“Hey, can’t let omegas have all the fun, right?” Bucky jokes. “You get all the great colors, and we’re over here stuck with black and grey and maybe! If we’re lucky! A blue.”

Tony laughs. “Well, purple definitely suits you. Not as much as it suited Clint, but you make it work!”

Bucky grins. “Clint told me that he wore purple all the time ‘cause he knew it would stick out in your mind.”

“It did at that,” he agrees. He’d ultimately sent Clint home, but that was through no fault of the purple outfits. As Clint had apparently intended, they’d helped him stand out in Tony’s mind. “And, hey, we match tonight.”

“I’ll say,” Bucky says appreciatively, eyeing his outfit. “Though I think that color looks better on you than mine does on me.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree, then, because I think you look amazing.”

His smile softens at the edges. “Thanks, doll,” he says warmly. “That means a lot coming from a fashion plate like you.”

“Nah, I’m just lucky to have a good designer like Randi on the team. You should see what I wear at home. I think Mama has an ulcer from my t-shirts and suits.” Bucky laughs, tossing his head back with the force of his mirth. Tony grins and waits him out until he’s calmed down to say, “Did you have fun today?”

“I thought it was amazing,” he replies. “I had an absolute blast, really. Whoever came up with the idea should be commended.”

That would be Pierce, and Tony doesn’t think that he should be commended for anything, ever, after the way he’s acted the last several weeks. So he sees no shame in taking credit for it and saying, “Thank you! You know, you should be commended too. You were the only other alpha to eventually figure out how to work that net.”

Bucky groans dramatically. “Don’t remind me. If I never have to think about casting a net again, it’ll be too soon.”

“No future for you as a fisherman, then, huh?”

“Absolutely not,” he says firmly.

“So, you don’t want your prize then?”

“…Prize?”

Tony flashes him a triumphant grin, already knowing that he’s won. “Mmhmm. I got you something.”

“You know I wasn’t the winner, right?”

“Oh, I know,” Tony says, getting up and leading him into the bedroom. “Don’t worry; Sam already got his prize.” To his surprise, Bucky’s eyes only get darker at that little tidbit.

“So what’s my prize, doll?” Bucky asks.

Tony smirks, pushes him down onto the bed, and climbs over him. “Oh look,” he says coyly, feathering the words over Bucky’s mouth. “Looks like you caught me in your net.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asks. His hands lift to Tony’s hips, thumbs smoothing over the fabric, leaving scalding hot trails wherever they go. “And what’ll I do with you now that I’ve got you here?”

“I can think of a few things,” Tony teases and kisses him.

The evening flies by too quickly. For once, Tony is able to speak to every alpha present, and he hates that he doesn’t know if it’s because there are fewer alphas, affording more time, or because he didn’t have to worry about any catastrophes distracting him from whoever he’s talking to. There’s another, smaller part of him that hates that he doesn’t even know if he wants to know the reason because he’s afraid that he already knows the answer.

But he makes the best of the time he has, and when Coulson comes to collect him for the group date rose, he’s had time with every single alpha. For once, he feels like, going into the rose ceremony at the end of the week will be somewhat easy. He’s got a handle on whether he thinks he can see a future with any of these alphas and which ones he knows he doesn’t. And it’s all thanks to the quiet, peaceful evening he just spent.

“I just want to say thank you to all of you,” he says when he sits down. “I asked you at the beginning of the week to reset yourselves so that we can focus on what’s important here, and I feel like that’s exactly what you gave me. Today has been so great for me. I hope it’s been good for you all too, getting to spend this time in this gorgeous Italian city. So, thank you for that. I don’t think I’m being overdramatic when I say that this has been my favorite group date so far.”

He picks up the rose and rubs his finger over the velvety soft petals. “I kind of wish that I had multiple roses to give out tonight, because so many of you impressed me, and I already know that I want to keep you here. But I only have the one. So, tonight, I want to give this rose to someone who continues to impress me every time I talk to them. I really feel like we took out a new lease on our love tonight.” He glances over at Sam and winks when the pun registers with him. Sam’s grin stretches from one ear to the other as he sits forward anticipatorily. “Sam, will you accept this rose?”

“A thousand times, yes,” Sam says immediately. “Do you even have to keep asking?”

Tony laughs and stands so he can pin the rose on Sam’s lapel. “You’ve been so great today,” he tells him and leans in for the last kiss of the night.

Bucky and Natasha both stop to congratulate Sam while the other alphas give their hugs to Tony and head out. Tony waves to everyone, calling goodbyes after them, knowing that he’s smiling so hard his face is red.

Afterwards, Coulson approaches him and says, “Can we get one last confessional from you before you head back to the hotel?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” For once, he doesn’t mind the question. Tonight has been so perfect that he can’t find it in himself to be bothered.

“So, tell me, how are you feeling about how tonight went?”

He doesn’t even have to think about it. “It was perfect. Everything about today was perfect. I’m so hopeful for the rest of my time on this show because… I just felt so loved today. I didn’t get any sense of drama, even when I had to give the date rose out. It just felt like everyone accepted it and didn’t try to pick a fight, which was really nice.”

“Do you think that that’s a coincidence?”

Tony’s smile fades. He ducks his head to give himself time to pull the words together. “I’d be stupid,” he says eventually, “to ignore that today went so great and that Ty wasn’t here. I know that I have hopes for what really happened last week, and I’m sure that some of the alphas here think that I’m oblivious to their concerns, but I’m not. It’s—I promise, I did pay attention today.”

“How will that play into your date with Ty?”

“It’ll be a big day, that’s for sure,” Tony says, nodding. “I… I need to get to the bottom of things with Ty. As it is, right now, I’m scared that we can’t get past all this. I’m looking for answers. Once and for all, I want to know if there’s a future for us.”

Chapter Text

Steve hears through the grapevine that Ty was informed he’d have just as early a morning as Steve did on his one-on-one, so he isn’t surprised to come back from a tour of the Sistine Chapel to find a camera shoved in his face. He’s starting to get the hang of this reality show thing finally, and he’d eat his hat if Pierce didn’t want a filmed confrontation before Ty goes off on his date. But, of course, with the early hour, that makes it somewhat difficult to have one the day of. The previous day though? With some spliced footage to make it appear that they happened on the same day? Yeah, he could see that happening.

The cameras follow him around for the rest of the afternoon, his dinner in the hotel restaurant, and his retreat back to his room. But if he’d thought it would stop there, he’s sadly mistaken. There’s another camera waiting for him in the suite sitting room, covering the conversation Bucky, Sam, Bruce, Loki, Natasha, T’Challa, and Pepper are having.

“Evening,” he greets.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky says companionably. “Come over here and join us.”

He takes him up on the offer, despite the limited seating, settling down on the armrest of Bucky’s chair. “What are we talking about?”

“The group date yesterday,” Sam says. “I was just saying that I think Tony had a great day yesterday. He just had so much fun.”

Steve nods slowly, taking that in, before saying, “I’m glad to hear that.” Tony’s had it rough recently, and Steve is sincerely pleased to know that he finally had a good time on a group date instead of worrying about Justin or Ty.

“He was fun to be around too,” Loki comments.

“Are you saying he’s not always fun?” T’Challa asks noncommittally.

“He’s spent quite a bit of time these past few weeks crying,” Loki points out, raising his hands peaceably. “I don’t blame him for that, but you can’t tell me that that’s your idea of an enjoyable time.”

“I think you’re right,” Pepper remarks. “It was nice to see him smiling for a change.”

“He even said it,” Bucky says. “That it was such a good time.”

“I just hope it was a good contrast for him,” Bruce says. “I hope that he saw that that group date went well and noticed that Ty wasn’t there. Or, I know that he likely saw it. But I hope he puts the pieces together.”

Steve isn’t as sure. He’s certain that Tony did notice Ty’s absence and the smoothness of the date. But he’s just not sure that he’ll think that one was caused by the other. Tony has dug his heels in on everyone’s opinion with Ty, even after professing to want an honest, unbiased opinion from an outsider. It worries him to think that Tony spent today rationalizing the events of yesterday to himself.

“I don’t know,” Sam says, shaking his head while he puts a voice to Steve’s thoughts. “I’m worried he won’t. It’s not a secret. None of us like Ty. He’s showing Tony one side and the rest of us a completely different side. But Tony’s looking through rose-colored glasses, and it doesn’t help that Ty’s a manipulative liar who’s doing everything he can to make sure Tony doesn’t take those glasses off. But after last week, as much as I’d like to think that he’ll finally realize that the whole man is garbage and needs to be taken out, I’m not so sure that he’s ready to face up to what the rest of us know.”

Natasha sighs. She’s obtained a cigarette from somewhere—Steve didn’t even think they were allowed those on the show—and it dangles, unlit, from her fingers. He doesn’t know if she just likes to hold it between her fingers or if she’ll light it later, but she still looks impossibly cool and worldly. Steve despairs of ever looking that cool.

“We have to trust that Tony will catch up to his lies eventually,” she says. “He is not unintelligent. He’ll realize Ty is a shit sandwich and get rid of him.”

As though he knew they were talking about, the door opens to admit Ty Stone himself. Steve sighs to himself. The confrontation was inevitable, knowing the show’s reputation for drama, but he still wishes they could have just all gone to bed without having to see Ty before his return tomorrow.

To his (minimal) credit, Ty seems unfazed by seeing them all there, silent because they were obviously just talking about him. “Hello,” he says, heading to the kitchenette to take an apple out of the fridge. “Having a pleasant evening?”

The words themselves are polite, but the cool undertone is obvious enough. Steve murmurs a neutral reply, along with Natasha, Sam, Loki, Bucky, and T’Challa. Pepper and Bruce remain stonily silent.

“I heard you were wearing togas yesterday,” Ty comments like it’s a joke to him and the whole thing is ridiculous, rather than respectful of a millennia-old culture. “And fighting in them.” He laughs disbelievingly. “Couldn’t have been me. Looking that stupid in front of that many people? I’m surprised you debased yourselves like that.”

“Plenty of alphas did it historically,” Steve says quietly.

Ty scoffs. “Historically. There’s a reason we’re called ‘modern’ now.”

Steve loathes him.

“You have a big day tomorrow,” Natasha calmly interjects. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Are you excited?”

“Of course I am, are you stupid?” Ty mocks. “I’m getting alone time with my boy.”

“I just thought you might be worried.” She gives him a wide-eyed innocent look. “After last week.”

“Look, Tony knows the truth of what happened. Or he wouldn’t have kept me on.” He’s getting visibly angry, always so quick to rise to the bait. Steve tenses. But then Ty glances at the cameras, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath, clearly steadying himself so he doesn’t look so bad for the audience. Steve has to admit, he wonders what Ty thinks looks bad if everything he’s done up to this point doesn’t count. “I’m excited to see more of Italy.” He flashes them a smug smile. “With Tony.”

“Hmm,” Loki hums thoughtfully. “Listen, I just want to tell you to step up and be an alpha. Keep our names out of your mouth.”

Ty nods once. “I plan on it.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Because you’ve told us things before and then done the exact opposite, so I hope you understand why we wouldn’t trust you.”

“I have never once—” Ty begins heatedly, but Sam cuts him off.

“Don’t you think you should get some sleep for tomorrow? You’ll want to look your best.”

Ty pauses, reins himself back in again, and gives Sam such a fake smile that Steve partially wonders if he learned from a Ken doll… No, actually, even the Ken doll has a more genuine smile than Ty’s.

“You’re right,” Ty says in a horrible facsimile of graciousness. “I do want to look my best. I’ll see you all at the rose ceremony. Have a good time tomorrow.”

None of them manage to muster up anything encouraging for him in return. Steve wonders if he’s even surprised by it—or if he genuinely thinks they’re too unimportant to care about.

Chapter Text

The outfit they’ve put him in for his date with Ty is the simplest he’s worn by far. The shirt is Oscar de la Renta and the pants are Amiri and the heeled boots are Louboutin, but the shirt’s pattern matches half a dozen other items in the collection, the pants are jeans, and the heeled boots look exactly like something he could’ve gotten from Payless save for the red sole.

Tony stands still as Angie flits around him with a roll of tape, trying to make sure that the singular sleeve doesn’t fall off his shoulder in the middle of the date. She’s not having much success but he has faith in her. She hasn’t failed him yet—especially not her advice about Steve, he remembers.

Wondering if she has more spectacular advice, he asks, “Do you think I’m making a mistake here?”

Angie freezes, eyes going wide in the reflection of the mirror. Just that alone confirms what he’d suspected since Pierce intervened with the one-on-one: production has a vested interest in the drama swirling around Ty. It makes sense. Every single season has to be bigger and more dramatic than the last, and though Tony doubts he can top Betty’s season, he knows now that his isn’t the exception. The moment Pierce forced him to tell the alphas about his infertility, he knew that Pierce wanted to wring as much drama from him as he can. He’s done his best not to play along, but there’s only so much that he can do.

It worries him. There are things that he needs to know from Ty, things that will absolutely determine whether he sends Ty home after this or not. As much as he wants to pursue the possible future that he still believes that they have, he doesn’t want to be with someone who sees him as a possession, as something to win. He doesn’t want someone who picks fights with other people. He doesn’t want to constantly be on edge, wondering if his alpha is lying to him. He needs to know if this is the end of the road for them.

But he’s also scared that if he tries, will Pierce step in and insist on Ty staying for the sake of the most dramatic season yet?

“Angie?” he asks when she still hasn’t answered.

She gives him a tight smile and resumes pinning his sleeve. “Sorry, Tony,” she says. “I don’t know what you’re asking about.”

Ordinarily, he wouldn’t let it go. He’d insist on getting her opinion. But he doesn’t. He just nods and resumes staring blankly at the mirror. Angie’s dodge is just as much of an answer as if she’d straight out said that she thinks it’s a mistake. She thinks he should have stood his ground and insisted on T’Challa keeping his one-on-one. A very large part of him agrees with her, wishing that he could have just as angst-free a day as he’d had on the group date, but there are questions that he needs Ty to answer, and they were never going to be answered with everyone else around. It has to be now.

It has to be today.

“Alright,” Angie says, stepping back with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. “If that thing falls down, then not even Jesus himself could keep it there.”

Despite his nerves, he chuckles. He reaches up and touches the draping sleeve, eyes the orange-gold floral print in the mirror. Really, despite its simplicity, it’s not a bad look. Randi did a good job of finding a blouse that makes his eyes stand out.

“Okay,” he says and takes a deep breath in. “Let’s go to Juliet’s house.”

The very first play Tony had ever seen wasn’t a Broadway musical, though he’s gone with his mother to many of them. No, the very first play he ever saw was at NYU by a traveling troupe of British performer, who put on an entire production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream with just the five of them, minimal props, and a five-by-five stage. Maria had gone just to humor one of the donors to her foundation, but Tony had found himself enthralled despite his young age. The play had been well done and funny, and he was able to follow along despite the unusual language. It had cultivated a love of Shakespeare in him that still persists to this day, though most people wouldn’t expect it of him.

When he’d found out that they would be going to Italy for one week during the show, he’d made a request that one of the dates be in Verona. He’s been many times while visiting his family, always making an effort to make the drive up from Tuscany, and he wants to share his love of Shakespeare with someone he might spend the rest of his life with.

To that end, they’ve put Tony on Juliet’s balcony to wait for Ty. It won’t take long—at this point, Ty’s ride from the local airport should already be on its way—but while he waits, he contents himself with watching the people who come to pin letters to Juliet’s house, begging for advice. His heart goes out to them and their heartbreak. Maybe he should ask Juliet for help. Undoubtedly, it’ll take more time than he has to get a reply, but the idea still holds merit.

“Hey, Coulson?” he calls over his shoulder. “Do you think I could write a letter to Juliet before Ty gets here?”

He’s half-expecting a refusal to go along with all the other refusals he’s gotten. To his surprise, however, Coulson looks thoughtful and then says, “I think that’d be a great idea. Give me a minute to make a call to the car to have them wait if they get here early.”

“Thanks,” Tony says, pathetically grateful for the opportunity to get his thoughts down on paper before Ty arrives.

While Coulson resets down in the courtyard, Tony sits down to give a confessional to one of the other camera operators. “I’m excited to see Ty again,” he says. “From the very first night, I had this incredible connection with Ty that I really feel like has just grown since then. But I won’t lie. I’m also anxious about today. I know that everyone thinks I’m oblivious, but I do see the red flags that have been popping up. This entire week so far has just been so incredible, exactly what I was hoping for out of coming on this show, and I have noticed that Ty wasn’t present for any of those moments. I’ve heard the other alphas talking about it too. I know that Ty is very much disliked by every other alpha in the house. He doesn’t always express his emotions in the best way—and yeah, I do that too, but shouldn’t I want a partner who will be strong where I’m not? We want to complement each other, right? And I just feel like Ty is trying to be perfect all the time, so perfect that it comes off as kind of fake, so I just—I want to get to the bottom of that today. I can really see this as being either the first one-on-one with my future alpha… or it’s the only one-on-one that I have with Ty.”

“Tony,” Coulson calls up to him. “We’re ready for you.”

So Tony goes, and he writes his letter. He puts to page everything that he hasn’t been able to admit even in his confessionals, every fear, every small anxiety that he’s had since the moment Ty jumped that fence, his childhood friend returned to him at last. He tells Juliet that he’s scared of making the wrong choice, that he’s scared of what the future holds for him if he chooses Ty but equally scared of what it holds if he doesn’t choose Ty. He tells her that he’s torn and he doesn’t know what to do. And when he’s done, he folds up the letter and pins it to the wall.

“I’m ready to go back up—” he begins only to stop when he hears his name being called. “What—”

“Tony!” his name is called out again. This time, he turns to see Ty running down the alleyway to the courtyard. “Hey, babe!”

“Uh, hi?” Tony asks, blinking at him. Wasn’t Ty supposed to wait in the car until he was set back up on the balcony?

“Sorry, babe, I just got a little impatient,” Ty explains, swooping down to give him a kiss. “I wanted to see you too badly.” His thumb brushes over his bared shoulder. “I like this. Easy access.”

Well. Tony supposes he can forgive excitement, even if he wishes it had been a little more like Steve’s excitement in Venice.

“How are you?” Ty asks him.

“I’m… good,” Tony decides on. He doesn’t know how he feels but he’s getting a little more happy now that Ty is actually here with him and the doubts are pushed away from his mind.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Glad you’re here.”

“Thank you. Me too,” Ty tells him. He wraps Tony up in a big hug that isn’t quite as nice as Sam’s but still do a good job of melting his worries away. “I’m so excited.”

“I can tell,” Tony says with a smile that he’s starting to feel. What does he have to be worried about? They’ll clear the air, get everything straightened out, and be right back on track.

“So where are we?” Ty looks around, brow furrowed. “Oh wait, this is—this is that character’s house, right? Julia?”

“Juliet,” he corrects, not sure how Ty doesn’t know the name of one of the most famous characters in literary history.

“Right. She killed herself because her boyfriend died.”

Well… yes, that’s true. But the way Ty says it, faintly deriding as though shock from bond loss hasn’t historically been the cause of many deaths before modern medicine, kind of sets Tony on edge. A good day, he reminds himself. He’d known there was a possibility Ty wouldn’t have the same reverence for Shakespeare that he has. He doesn’t need to get his hackles up over it.

Then Ty looks at the letters pinned to the wall. “What are these?” he asks. He walks over and pulls one off its pin.

“Ty—”

“Dear Juliet,” he reads. “Really? People actually write letters to this character? She was a fourteen year-old who killed herself because she was sad over her boyfriend. Why would they think she has any advice to offer?”

If Tony’s mind could grit its teeth, it’d be doing that as it reminded him that Ty’s interpretation is a common, valid (though shallow, in his opinion) reading of Romeo and Juliet. It doesn’t bode well for the rest of their activity today, though.

“I think some people probably have a different opinion,” he offers.

“A wrong opinion. Come on, you can’t tell me that you would kill yourself if I died.” Ty hesitates but ultimately pins the letter back up. “What are we doing today?”

“We’re going to attend an interpretation of Romeo and Juliet on a walking tour of Verona,” Tony says.

“…We are?” Ty asks, nose wrinkling. “That’s…” Tony raises his eyebrows. “I mean, there’s so many football teams in Italy. We could’ve gone to see a game, you know? I was expecting something a little more… physical. But hey, Verona’s great! Romeo and Juliet’s great! Any time I get to spend with you is worth it.” It’s an obvious cover, but Tony supposes that it was unrealistic of him to assume that everyone would be as interested in this as he is. Besides, Bruce had even been sent on a boat when he’s afraid of water. Ty’s disinterest in the play isn’t nearly that bad in comparison.

“Why don’t we head on over?” Tony asks. “It’s almost starting.”

“Alright,” Ty says easily, slipping his hand into Tony’s as they walk. “You know, I was thinking to myself just on the drive over here that I’d love to walk through these streets, holding Tony’s hand.”

Warmed by the simple hope that Ty had held just to hold his hand, Tony says, “And look at us now!”

“Right! This day’s already going better than I thought.”

Tony really enjoys the play, even though it’s obvious that Ty isn’t having as much fun. But at least Ty keeps his mouth shut, and that’s all he can ask for. They don’t have to share hobbies, but they have to be respectful of each other’s. Relationships are built on mutual respect in all things.

The play ends at one of the oldest graveyards in Verona, the stones so old that names have been eroded away with time. There’s a park close by that they head for next. In Tony’s mind, the seclusion and the proximity to the cemetery will grant them the privacy they need to have the conversation they have to have. He hadn’t wanted to have it so early, hoping he could put it off until the evening, but Ty’s reaction at Juliet’s house makes him feel like it’s better to have that conversation now rather than later.

“How are you?” he asks once they’ve found a mostly flat area to set up at.

“I’m good, babe,” Ty says, which is probably not true since he clearly hadn’t enjoyed walking around historic Verona watching actors perform a play he doesn’t like. But maybe he means that he’s good just spending time with Tony. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Tony replies.

“Are you?” Ty teases, reaching over and tweaking his ear. “Are you good?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You look good.”

Tony beams at him. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“I hope I look a little better than not too bad.” Ty stretches, his shirt riding up to reveal a flat, toned stomach. Tony’s mouth goes a little dry at the sight. He can admit to being a bit of a sucker for a nice stomach, though he usually appreciates a bit of a treasure trail over Ty’s bared muscles.

“Were you surprised to get the one-on-one this week?” he asks, genuinely curious to know what Ty had thought when he didn’t hear his name on the group date card.

“No,” Ty says confidently. “Not at all.” He leans back on his elbows, legs stretched out in front of him.

Well, it was a surprise to Tony, since he hadn’t picked Ty originally. It was only Pierce’s intervention that gave the one-on-one to him.

“I felt like it made sense though.”

“Oh?” He’s curious to know why Ty thinks it made sense. He had wound up rationalizing that it was better to separate Ty from the other alphas who don’t like him, but what does Ty think about it?

“For sure,” Ty assures him. “Especially after the last few weeks. Just between you and me, they haven’t gone anything like I would have liked them to.” Alright, they’re on the same page here. “But we’re getting through it though.” He chuckles, like they’re still on the same page.

But they’re not. Tony has serious questions that need answering, and Ty’s answer will determine what happens at the end of tonight. Ty clearly thinks that everything’s resolved, but his own heart has never felt more turbulent.

“Hey,” Ty says, sitting back up so he can look Tony in the eyes. “I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t want to talk about the last two weeks while I’m with you. I just want to focus on us and our relationship.”

And as much as Tony wishes he could agree with him—every other date he’s had so far, he only wants to talk about their potential future—he just can’t. Ty is only here because Tony needs to clear the air first.

“I think we should,” he says, gently but pressing.

Ty visibly pauses and resets. “You do? Oh, good, I actually did think that we should make sure we’re on the same page, but I didn’t know if that’s what you wanted. And I’m here for you, so I was going to let it go.”

“No, I—I think this is something we should talk about,” Tony says. “We, you know, we talked about the things that I was concerned about a few weeks ago—”

“I remember.”

His tone sounds like he doesn’t want the reminder but Tony feels that it needs to be stated. “About how confident you were and how it felt like you weren’t respecting my relationships with the other alphas.”

“But I’ve been trying,” Ty says.

“I know,” Tony says reassuringly. “And I appreciate that. But then last week, everyone telling me how they felt about you, and it just felt like… It was something that really bothered me because it’s not something that I understand—"

“Well, thank you for standing up for me,” Ty says, but Tony wasn’t done.

“—how you can act so amazingly towards me but then apparently shitty enough towards the other alphas that all of them, to a one, dislike you. And it’s raised some questions in my mind, if you’re being as genuine as you say you are.”

“I… see,” Ty says slowly. “I—” He stops, considers something, and then nods. “Let me start with last week. I’ve spent a lot of time this week thinking, trying to put myself in their shoes, and in the end, I could really only see one reason for why they’ve all been acting the way they have: they’re jealous.”

“Really? All of them?” Tony says, unimpressed with that answer. As much as he wants to give Ty the benefit of the doubt, it just feels like a cop out.

“It comes down to the conversation that we had when you asked me what was going on between me and Pepper. I could have handled the situation at the rodeo better, I know that now. I admit that; I was the one who screwed up. But when you asked me what I think about Pepper, I just felt like I needed to tell you everything, be completely honest with you.”

Tony isn’t entirely sure what any of this has to do with the other alphas being jealous. But he keeps his mouth shut, determined to give Ty the chance to explain himself fully without interruption this time.

“I’ve had thoughts, multiple times even, of her not being here for the right reasons. I still think that, even though she’s still here. But, hey—” He holds up his hands in a woah fashion—"that’s your choice, babe, and I wouldn’t want to take it from you. The alphas, they were harsh about thinking I was trying to get a pity rose and resolve the whole rodeo thing. But that wasn’t my intentions. I knew the entire time that I wasn’t worried about our relationship. You’ve been very open about believing that we have a connection, and I believe that too. So I wasn’t worried about us, and I wasn’t worried about what you’d think about me if I shared how I truly felt about Pepper, so I did. I’ll admit, I don’t know her that well, and maybe I didn’t have any business saying it, but it was how I felt. And I felt like you needed to know that.”

“Okay,” Tony says, drawing out the word. He’s still not sure how any of this relates to jealousy, but he sets that problem aside for now to focus on the rest of it. He’s got several issues with what Ty said, starting with—“It’s not really the Pepper thing. It’s the other things that you’ve said or done. It just doesn’t make sense that every single person had something to say.”

“I mean, well, um.” Ty stops and runs his hand over his hair, messing up the carefully tousled look. He’s quiet for a long time, longer than Tony feels like this question warrants. Eventually, he says, “I’ve asked some of them, like Bruce, for examples of things that I’ve done that have brought my character into question besides the whole rodeo day, but they didn’t have anything. Nothing real, anyway. They like to put words into my mouth, twist the things that I’ve said. I’ll be honest with you, Tony, it’s something that’s been happening a lot with the other alphas here. Loki and Natasha were frustrated with me for no reason—now, I say anything, and it gets blown way out of proportion. Everything I do gets amplified negatively. It’s a very tough position that I’m in right now because I am the frontrunner, so I know that makes me a target, and it’s not easy to keep my cool, but I’m never going to quit.”

Tony’s mouth twists. He looks out at the graveyard across the street and wonders if he’d picked this place subconsciously because he knew how this would end. He’d been so hopeful but every word out of Ty’s mouth, it just frustrates him more. Where is the owning up to his own mistakes? Why is it everyone else’s fault? And, after Ty told him that he was working on his arrogance, why is it that he’s claiming that he’s the frontrunner? If Tony were going to say that anyone is the frontrunner, it would be Steve, the one who’s gotten two one-on-ones.

“Okay, but you’re doing it again, you get that, right? You’re acting arrogant, after you just told me you were trying not to,” he points out frustratedly.

“Hey, I’m just calling it like I see it,” Ty exclaims. “You yourself said that we have an intense connection. No one else has been bragging about that, and trust me, they would be. So I can only imagine that you haven’t said it.”

No, he hasn’t, because he hasn’t needed to reassure anyone like he has Ty. But he can see where Ty’s reasoning is coming from. He doesn’t agree with the conclusion, but he can see how that’s not an unreasonable one to draw.

“Alright, maybe that’s on me,” he concedes.

Ty gives him a wounded puppy look. “Are you saying I’m not the frontrunner?”

Tony’s lips flatten. He picks a dandelion out of the grass and starts systematically shredding the petals. “I’m not saying that anyone’s the frontrunner. But that is the least of my concerns right now. Look, um—” He goes back over his list of points—“One of the things that I’m looking for in an alpha is something that people are drawn to. I live in a world where deals are made and broken on the strength of your charisma. I don’t want to have to worry about if you’re going to offend the wrong person. I want them to be able to look at you and say, ‘That’s who I want to be friends with.’ People aren’t saying that about you here.”

“Yeah, no, I get that,” Ty agrees. “It’s not adding up. Everyone I’ve ever met, no matter where I go, school, work, you name it, everyone loves me.” He shrugs like it’s a simple fact of life. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and everyone loves Tiberius Stone.

Everyone, that is, except for Tony Stark at this moment in my time.

“Oh my god,” he sighs irritably, looking away. He throws the dandelion at the ground. “That’s so—okay.” He buries his face in his hands. “Holy fuck, Ty.”

“I know,” Ty laughs nervously. “I know how it sounds—it sounds terrible—I hate saying it, but it’s true. People love me. I can’t be who I’m not. I hate talking about myself, I really do, but I don’t want to tell you things about me. I want you to see who I am through other people’s eyes.”

“That’s great but don’t say things like that! It sounds so arrogant. I mean, not everyone loves you. It’s statistically impossible. There are people out there who don’t love you. Fuck, I just have to go back to Rome to see almost a dozen people who can’t stand the sight of you, and that’s what I’m trying to get to the bottom of. I don’t want to hear these stupid platitudes about how everyone outside of this show loves you. It just makes me so mad.”

“But Tony…” Ty pauses. “Okay, it’s not me, per se. It’s the person that I—that I am.” But he sounds like he’s scrambling to make up for a faux pas, and it just makes Tony more irritated with him. Why can’t he just say what he means without trying to couch it in language that he thinks Tony wants to hear?

“I get that,” he grits out, “but that’s where I think the issue is coming from with the other alphas. Like, that sounded boastful, and if I were living in that house, I’d be upset with you too to hear you talk like that. Do you understand how that sounds?”

Ty nods tightly. “Yes, I know, it sounds terrible now that I’m hearing it from you.”

“Then why didn’t you think it through before saying it?” He waits, but Ty doesn’t reply, just rubs his hands over his face. So Tony keeps going. He’s got more to say, and he’ll say it, if that’s what it takes to sort this through. “It’s just frustrating, Ty. I’m trying so hard to see the person I knew when we were kids, but you come here and you act arrogant, and when I call you out on it, you act like I’ve committed this horrible sin against you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say here.”

Well, at least he’s admitting it. The problem is—“I don’t want you to say anything!” Tony cries exasperatedly, throwing his hands up. “I don’t care what you say as long as it’s what you mean! As long as you don’t try to walk it back as soon as I disagree with you! It doesn’t matter what I want you to say; I want your honest feelings. I just want you to speak.”

Ty nods, but then he says, “I don’t know what you want me to explain. I just want you to have clarity.” As though that’s not just a meaningless platitude. “I want you to get to know who I am, so I’m ready to go do whatever else we have planned for the day and you just enjoy the day with me.”

He’s halfway up off the ground, but Tony just stares at him. He can’t be serious. He can’t genuinely think that they’re going to just get up and explore the city while they’re in the middle of an argument. No, Tony isn’t going anywhere until they figure this out.

“No,” he says. “Ty, I just…” He stops and looks back at the graveyard, sighing heavily. How does he get this through Ty’s head? Is it genuine confusion? Or is he just being willfully obtuse? He presses his lips together, deciding to shift gears. Asking Ty what happened isn’t getting them anywhere, but maybe there’s another way to get to the heart of this. “I don’t want to know what happened. I want to know how you feel about it, how it affects you, your heart, us.”

Ty nods and settles back down. He’s quiet for a long time. Tony isn’t usually patient, but he forces himself to be this time. He wants Ty’s genuine thoughts, and he’ll wait for the rest of the day if he has to.

Finally, Ty says, “I’ve just been myself. I’ve been respectful of everybody else even I’m being disrespected by them. How does that make me feel? I think—no, I don’t think, I know—that it’s not right. How they’re treating me, it’s not right. But at the end of the day, it doesn’t affect me, because I know that I’m here for you, and I won’t ever lose sight of that. I want to give you clarity. That’s all I want for you. Did I answer that well enough?”

Tony buries his face in his hands again and lets out a high-pitched, frustrated noise. “Those aren’t feelings, Ty. Those are—those are statements. Those are fucking platitudes that you think I want to hear. I mean—do you want to know how I feel hearing about what you say you’re going through?”

“I—hang on. I’m not saying I’m going through anything. I’m telling you what’s actually happening.”

Yes, and that’s the entire problem, isn’t it?

“But it’s just your side, right?” Tony argues. “So until I know what everyone else says, it is what you say. And don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to change the subject. Do you want to know how I feel so you can know how to describe it yourself?”

Ty looks irritated, which is ridiculous. What does he have to be irritated about. “Fine. Sure.”

It’s so begrudging, so capitulating, that Tony immediately loses track of what he was going to say. He doesn’t want to be condescended to. He wants to have an open, honest conversation. For someone who says that he wants him to have clarity, all Ty is doing is making things worse. Ty seems completely unwilling to do his part to clear things up. Tony can’t get to the bottom of this debacle if he’s the only one participating in the conversation, and right now, he is.

“Can you just give me a second?” he asks, getting up before Ty even nods. “I just—I need a break.”

He stalks away, wanting very badly to faceplant into the closest tree and scream until his feelings are out. If the rest of the date goes like this, then he’ll have to send Ty home. He can’t see a future with an alpha who acts like this. But he doesn’t want to. He wants to be able to look back at their childhood and not have those memories tainted by the overlay of the alpha he sees today. He wants to feel confident in them. He wants that so badly. But he doesn’t.

“Tony?” Coulson asks concernedly.

“Yeah,” he says shortly, stopping. He’s probably about a hundred yards away from Ty by now, far enough that they can’t hear each other. “Okay. Um, turn that camera on me. I need to get some stuff off my chest.”

“Alright,” Coulson agrees, sounding so gentle that Tony wants to scream again. Coulson isn’t supposed to be gentle with him. He’s supposed to threaten to taze him and watch soap operas with his feet propped on Tony’s back if he doesn’t behave. This is all wrong.

“There is… no substance to what Ty is saying,” he says as soon as Coulson’s hoisted the camera up on his shoulder. “No emotions behind it except for, I don’t know, desperation. You know, he’s sitting here saying things that I should want to hear, but I have no idea if he actually believes them. I just feel like he’s trying to get that stupid pity rose that he said he wasn’t trying to get. He says he’s here for me, but I don’t know where his heart’s at because the closest I’ve gotten to hearing any kind of feelings from him is him complaining about the alphas. I can’t build a relationship off of that.”

He shakes his head, feeling tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. Reaching up, he angrily dashes them away. He will not allow himself to cry on camera again. He’s so fucking tired of that.

“God, I’d even accept him saying that he has trouble expressing his emotions. But that’s not what I’m getting. So I just—if this is the way it’s going to be, I need more.” He stops, drumming his fingers against his leg. “I don’t know what to do, Coulson. I’ve never been in a relationship like this with someone so incapable of saying what they feel. There’s something there, I know there is, but I don’t know how to get this conversation through his head. I don’t want to give up on it, but he’s clearly not hearing what I’m saying, so… what do I do? How do I get him to understand this?”

“It takes time,” Coulson says unhappily. “It just takes time.”

“Does it? Because we don’t have time. We have today. That’s it.” He turns around, feeling the need to do something. He turns back. “He has to have emotions, right? It’s obvious that he has emotions. Everyone has emotions. Is it that impossible to say them out loud? I don’t think it is, and I won Most Emotionally Repressed in high school.”

Coulson presses his lips together in the way that means he’s trying to hide a smile. “I know.”

“Am I just not explaining it well enough? Is that it?” He sighs, possibly his longest sigh ever. “Can someone else explain it to him? Maybe it’s the way I’m saying it, but I don’t know how I can be any clearer. So if someone else tells him, maybe it’ll finally get through his head.”

The regretful look in Coulson’s eyes tells him what he’ll say even before he says it. It doesn’t stop Coulson from saying, “We’re not allowed to interfere like that, Tony.”

“Please?”

“I’m sorry. We can’t.”

He groans. “Okay. Fine. I’ll… I’ll go try again. Just—give me a second, okay?”

Without waiting for permission, he turns around, places his head against the closest tree, and lets his mind go blank. It’s peaceful like this, like drifting on a stream on a cloudy day, his mind gone far away for a few minutes. It’s only when Coulson calls his name that he returns to himself, nodding before he forces himself to return to Ty. He sits down on the picnic blanket that the crew had provided for them, waits a beat, and then flops backwards. Maybe it’ll go better if he doesn’t have to look at Ty.

“Hey,” Ty says softly. “I just wanted to say that it hurts me.”

Alright, well, that’s a start.

Finally.

“I don’t want you to think that this is easy for me. It’s not. And I’m so sorry, because as hard as this is on me, I can only imagine how much harder it must be for you. So I just wanted to tell you that I will do everything I can to make things clearer and easier for you. I’m going to make things right.”

And he’s lost him again.

“Stop thinking about me,” Tony implores. “You keep saying that. You can’t keep saying that. I don’t want to hear what you’re going to do for me. I want to know what you’re going to do for you.”

“But what if doing this for you is doing something for me?”

“Really? So if I say right now that I’m done, I want you to go home—”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. Please.”

“But if I did,” Tony presses. “Are you still going to be doing things for me when this airs in a few months? Of course not. You’re going to be thinking about your edit on the show and how you look. So don’t say that saying these things to make me happy is what makes you happy, because it’s not.”

“Tony—”

“You say that you want me to get to know who you are, to understand you, but the only way that I can do that is if you tell me. You can’t just tell me what happened or give me vague promises about how you’re going to fix it. It’s sweet that you’re telling me that you don’t want to hurt me but I need more than that.” He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and steadies himself. “Ty, I don’t think we’re going to get there right now. So I’m gonna get up, we’re gonna walk around Verona, and while we do, I want you to think about this. When we go to dinner, I don’t want you to say things that you think I’ll like or things that are important to me. I want to talk to you about normal things.”

“I promise you,” Ty says, “I’m not trying to say things that I think you want me to say. I’ll never do that to you through this entire show. I’m sorry if you feel like that’s what I was doing. I’m never going to do that. I promise.”

“But, Ty, that’s exactly what you did do!” he insists. “You even told me that you didn’t know what I wanted you to say.”

“Okay, you’re misunderstanding what I said. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?” Tony exclaims. “No, you know what, I don’t even care right now. Let’s just go look at this city. You can tell me later.”

Ty looks like he wants to argue. Tony dreads it because he doesn’t know what else he can say to get this through Ty’s head. But then he smiles brightly, almost blithe, like he’s choosing to ignore the tension.

“Enough said,” he says easily, gets up, and offers a hand down to Tony.

“How are you feeling about tonight?” Coulson asks once they’re settled into Iris Ristorante, a close, intimate restaurant that overlooks the river.

Tony arranges the slitted skirt of his overcoat around him—black over charcoal gray pants to match the ominousness of the graveyard earlier—and says, “Conflicted.”

“How so?”

“Today was terrible. I hate having to admit it because if he were anyone else, I would have sent him home already, but I still really like Ty. I know that there’s more there than he showed me earlier today. I know that the alpha I stuck my neck out for last week is there. But at the same time, I can’t help but wonder if the guy he was last week was just an act and this is the real Ty. You’d think that he’d want to put his best foot forward on the one-on-one, not the group date.

“So that scares me, that we were alone as we could get on this show, and he still couldn’t get his act together. I want to not like him, I want to send him home just like I’ve sent every other alpha home who pissed me off. But I can’t because every time I get close, I remember that he’s also the alpha who comforted me after Whitney and the alpha who told me during the very second week that he could see himself falling in love with me.

“What if I let go of him but he’s the one I’m supposed to be with?” he asks helplessly.

“What are you hoping for from tonight?” Coulson asks.

“I… I don’t know,” he admits. “On the one hand, I don’t know if I want him to fuck things up so badly that I send him home but, again, what if he’s the one? And on the other hand, what if he shows up and everything’s perfect so I keep him here but next week, it’s the same old shit again? I can’t—I can’t keep breaking my heart like this.”

“What would it look like if it was perfect?”

Tony shakes his head. “I have no idea. I don’t even know if Ty can turn things around at this point. I’ve made so many excuses for him. I can’t keep doing that.”

The door opens, admitting Ty in a handsome black suit. Simple, Tony will admit that, but still elegant. He beams boyishly when he spots Tony by the table and practically bounds over to him, only barely managing to avoid the other tables in the restaurant.

“Hey, hey!” he exclaims.

Tony musters a small smile for him as he stands and steps into Ty’s waiting arms. “Hi, Ty.”

“I like this slit,” Ty murmurs into the hug. “Lets me see those sexy legs.”

“My sexy legs are covered by pants,” Tony says dryly, but he appreciates the thought.

“Ty, can we get a confessional from you before we get started?” Coulson interjects when Ty goes to pull Tony’s chair out.

“Uh, do you mind?” Ty asks, giving Coulson a weird look. “I’m trying to seat my omega.”

“Just a quick one,” Coulson says blandly. He stares until Ty sighs dramatically and leaves to film his confessional. Once he’s gone, once it’s quiet again, he gives Tony a reassuring smile. “You looked like you needed a moment to get your thoughts together.”

“Thanks,” Tony says softly, already feeling overwhelmed and the night has barely started. “Um, can I keep talking? You don’t have to use it on the show. I just want to—you know.”

“Of course.”

“Okay, uh. I want Ty to open up tonight. He didn’t do that today. He just kept repeating the same things over and over. I need him to own up to exactly what he’s doing wrong instead of giving me excuses or shifting the blame to someone else. I’ve told him what I need from a relationship, which, if he’s serious about wanting, means that’s what I need from him too. The only way that Ty can turn this around and get that rose tonight—” He pauses and gazes at the rose, bright red in a brown restaurant, drawing his eye, making him feel that pressure all the more—“the only way he can earn this is to step out of his comfort zone to fight for us.”

He pauses, thinks about if there’s anything else that he wants to say, and then nods. “I’m good, Coulson. You can let him back in when he’s ready.”

Coulson nods and vacates the table with his camera. Tony waits in oppressive silence, feeling those nerves start to build. He’s never sent someone home after a one-on-one before, and it just makes him anxious. What if Ty doesn’t take it well? What if he refuses to leave? What if Sharon and the other bodyguards have to step in? He takes a shaky breath and tries to steady himself, but it doesn’t really work.

Ty comes back in an interminable time later, face falling when he sees that Tony is seated already. “I was going to pull your chair out for you,” he pouts.

Tony tries to find it cute like he would have just last week.

“Do you want to start?” he asks.

Ty gives him a wide, clueless look. “Start what?”

Well then. “Okay, I’ll start,” Tony says. “I was really hopeful for today. I really wanted to focus on our relationship and strengthen that. But as much as I wanted that, I couldn’t because I didn’t feel like you were meeting me where I needed you to be.”

Ty makes an understanding noise.

“I feel like it was obvious that the day didn’t go well,” he adds. “But I want to know what you think about it.”

“You know, just being honest, I’m glad you said that,” Ty says, nodding. “I thought today would go much better than it did just because we have such a strong connection. But then it didn’t, and I wasn’t worried about where we’re at until today. Now—and I’m still being honest—I feel like I’m on thin ice.”

Probably because he is, but Tony was raised by Maria Stark, and she raised him to be more tactful than bluntly saying that out loud. Instead, he says, “I understand where you’re coming from, and I wouldn’t necessarily disagree.” Ty gives him a wounded look, but he barrels on. “Hearing you say that you didn’t have any worries about our relationship worries me because I do. I worry about it a lot, and it concerns me what you think has been going on this entire time if this is the first time you thought things might not be perfect.”

“Right.”

“I think that you’re a great guy, Ty, I really do,” Tony continues. “But I don’t know that for certain because you won’t let me see what’s really going on with you. You’ve put up this façade, and maybe if we’d known each other for the last twenty years, I’d know how to see past that. But I don’t. You have to let me in, and right now, you’re not doing that. Right now, you’re just telling me that you have all these intentions—or you don’t have any intentions, when it comes to Pepper—and you’re a great guy and people love you, but that’s not what I want. I want someone who’s real with me, who sees me as a partner, someone to confide in when the rest of the world turns on you, not someone to protect yourself from.”

Ty grimaces. “I’m not trying to protect myself. I’m trying to protect you—”

“From what?” he challenges. “From everyone else’s opinion of you? From yourself? Ty, I’m looking for someone who has flaws because that’s someone who’s real, not some fantasy I conjured up in my head. We’re going to fight one day. Fuck, we’re fighting now. We’re going to argue. We’re going to have bad days. And I need to know who you’ll be on those days because that perfect façade will crack, I guarantee it. So I need you to own up to your flaws. Otherwise, I don’t see this working out.”

Ty closes his eyes, pressing his lips together. “Maybe I’ve been trying to be too perfect,” he admits. “It’s been hard for me, especially these last couple of weeks. But that’s because I haven’t had the real you that I saw last month, the one that I remember from childhood.”

“I’m sorry?” Tony asks incredulously. He’s been nothing but real this entire time. If he was being fake, then would he have stood up there and had a breakdown over admitting to his infertility? Would he have tried so hard to track down the truth about the rodeo? Would he have given Ty half the chance that he’s giving him now?

“No, I’m not trying to blame you,” Ty soothes, which has the exact opposite effect. Tony presses his lips together tightly, huffing through his nostrils. “I know it’s been really hard for you. So I’m not blaming you, I don’t want you to think that.”

“Okay, but you are,” Tony points out, swallowing back his anger. He had asked for Ty’s honest opinion, after all. “You said that it’s been hard for you because of something that I’m doing. And I don’t agree with you, but that doesn’t matter. You’re trying to backpedal now because of my reaction, and you’re doing exactly what I don’t want you to. You’re trying to seem like you’re perfect and our relationship is perfect and we’re never going to disagree. If you want to blame me, then blame me! But own up to it!”

“But I don’t want to blame you!” Ty exclaims. “I’m saying that it’s been hard because of all these other alphas saying things about me that aren’t true. And it’s hard to let loose and be myself because of it.”

Tony is going to scream. He’s sitting there pushing the blame onto everyone else instead of owning up to his abrasiveness and telling the other alphas to deal with it. Yeah, he wants there to be peace in the house, but not if that means everyone pretending that they’re someone else. How is he supposed to find a mate in that mess?

“Who cares if they’re saying things about you that aren’t true?” he argues to that point. “I decide for myself what’s true and what isn’t. If they really are lashing out because they’re jealous, then who gives a fuck? I can ignore that. But swallowing your personality so that you never have to deal with a conflict and look bad is fake. And I don’t know how to say this in any other way so that you get it, but I don’t want that. I want you to be genuine with me, even the bad parts.”

“Right, but—”

“You know when I thought you were the most real? On the rodeo date. When you got pissed off at Pepper? That didn’t bother me.” Or, it did, but only in so far as not wanting conflict and drama in general. The singular act of getting annoyed at someone? That’s just life. That happens all the time. It’s human to be irritated. “It was a real emotion, and that’s all I asked for.”

“Mmhmm,” Ty hums. He glances away, toying with his wine glass. Tony waits him out. “Okay, I have a question for you.”

“Go ahead.”

“How do I do that? I mean it. No one wants a bad edit when they come on this show, and we’re all hoping that you choose us over the other alphas, so how can I be my most raw self and not scare you off?”

“Is there something to be scared of, Ty?” he asks frankly.

“I—no. Of course not,” Ty denies immediately. “I just mean—”

“I know what you mean. The truth is, it’s a choice. That’s all it is. You have to get up every morning and say, ‘I’m going to be who I am today,’ and trust that I can see the good through the bad.”

Ty nods. His fingers run around the rim of the wine glass, setting off a clear, high tone. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” he says eventually, sounding so formal that it makes Tony cringe. “Alright, you want real emotions? I can give you that. I’m mad at myself—”

“Well, that’s a start!” Tony jokes, finally feeling like they’re getting somewhere.

“Yeah,” Ty chuckles. “I’m mad because I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to be perfect. That wasn’t my intention, and I’m mad that that’s how I made myself look. So from now on, I’m just going to be myself.”

It would’ve been nice if Ty had done that from the start, but if he’d given grace to Steve for being hopeless the first few weeks, he thinks he can extend that same grace to Ty.

Ty continues, “And in the vein of being honest, I kind of thought I had been real with you the last few weeks. But it’s been tough with all that’s been said about me.”

And he’s back to repeating himself again. This time, Tony doesn’t stop himself from thunking his head on the table. Table is his friend. Table will never repeat itself.

“Ty,” he groans.

“I know! I know! But hear me out. Everything that’s been said is completely fake, completely untrue, so I’ve been fronting so I don’t even look like I’m what they say I am. But that’s fake; it’s not the truth. This, what I’m saying to you right now, that’s the truth.”

Tony makes an irritated noise. “What I’m—” He decides that he can’t say this to the table and picks his head up. “What I’m saying to you is that you don’t need to front. I’m a big omega, I can make my own decisions. I believed that what everyone was telling me wasn’t who you were. I still believe that. But you just keep running around in circles when I’m trying to talk to you about this, and that makes me feel like I can’t trust myself.”

If Ty is serious about fronting, then he has to question how much Ty has been fronting this entire time. If he’s admitting to being fake, then Tony has to wonder if he’s been standing up for someone who doesn’t exist. And that scares him. He doesn’t want to believe that he’s not as good a judge of character as he thought, but there’s a possibility that he sent someone home last week that he shouldn’t have. And if he made that mistake, then how many others has he made? Will he be able to make the right choice at the end of this?

“I don’t want you to feel like that,” Ty says sympathetically. He reaches across the table to cover Tony’s hand with his. “I’m glad that I don’t have to front with you. It’s been tough—”

“Stop saying that!” Tony nearly shouts. “I know it’s tough. You keep fucking saying that! I want to know how that makes you feel. Are you mad? Are you hurt? Are you more determined than ever? Stop telling me that things are tough. Newsflash: everything’s tough. It was tough when I had to confront Whitney. It was tough when I had to tell you that I can’t get pregnant. It was tough watching four alphas walk out on me. Those were all tough, but you know how I felt? I was angry, I was upset, I was devastated. That tells you more than me saying that it was tough.”

Ty nods like he understands, but Tony’s still worried that he doesn’t. “You’re making sense,” he assures him.

“Am I?” he demands. “Am I making sense? Because I’ve been saying this all day, and you haven’t once done what I asked.”

“Yes, but I—” Ty stops and takes a sip of his wine before continuing calmly, “I’m doing my best. But the pressure I’ve been feeling, like the omega of my dreams is slipping out of my fingers, I hate feeling like that. So I didn’t own up to it. And if that makes me fake, then I’m sorry you feel that way. I only want you to think that I’m being genuine with you. At the end of the day, though, I know that all of this will just help our relationship to grow.”

Tony’s head meets the table again. Right now, he doesn’t feel, at all, that their relationship is going to grow. He just feels like it’s met its end. Ty might claim that he’s being genuine, but he’s still just going in circles.

“Tell me something genuine, Ty,” he mutters into the table. “Just once. Please.”

Ty pauses. “Something genuine? Okay. I love everything about you. Every single little thing.”

Tony rolls his head to give him a disbelieving look. “What?”

“I mean it! The way you’ve handled everything the show’s thrown at you, even all of your flaws.”

“Oh, ‘even,’” Tony mocks, bristling at the condescension. “Thank you for that.” He picks his head back up and steeples his fingers. “Ty, I feel like—you think of me as this omega from your dreams. I need you to know that I’m not perfect. This isn’t a show that I’m putting on.” Except for the occasional camera-ready smile, but that’s different because even just putting in the effort is usually enough to put him in the mood.

“I know,” Ty says quickly. “I’m not perfect either.”

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Tony asks over him. “Because it seems like there’s a disconnect between what you say you want and what you see when you look at me. I have a temper. I get caught up in my work. I will definitely forget our anniversary and probably your birthday too. I can be a sarcastic, raging dick.”

“Yes!” Ty exclaims, slamming his hand down on the table.

He rolls his eyes. Ty’s just jumping on the bandwagon again, agreeing with everything he says. “Okay? I need you to know that.”

“Yes! That’s exactly what I’m looking for!” Ty insists. “Someone who’s real about who they are.”

“Well, that’s what I’m looking for too,” Tony exclaims, throwing his hands up. “But right now, you’re not owning up to that.”

Ty nods eagerly. “We’re on the same page, Tony, I swear. And if there’s something that I do or a trait that I have that you don’t like, I want to know. I don’t think that I have any of those.”

Tony blinks at him. It shouldn’t be up to him to list Ty’s faults. Ty should be able to do that himself. “You absolutely do,” he says flatly. He can think of several off the top of his head.

Giving him a boyish grin, Ty jokes, “A few.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“One? The one we’re—”

“No, you have flaws. There are things about you that I find incredibly frustrating.”

“You could tell me what those are,” he suggests.

“I shouldn’t have to,” Tony retorts. “You should be able to do your own reflection and figure out what you need to work on.”

“Right. Yeah. I’ll be mindful of those.”

“But you can’t even name what they are!” Tears prickle at the corners of Tony’s eyes. He lifts his napkin to dab them away, swallowing thickly. This isn’t going how he wanted it to. And right now, he’s so afraid that he knows how this dinner will end. “I don’t want you to be mindful. I just want you to own up to them. Don’t try to claim that you don’t have flaws, even if you’re joking. You do.” He looks out the window at the river and shakes his head. “I don’t want to be standing at the end with someone who can’t hold themselves accountable. I’ve done that too many times. I won’t do it to myself again.”

“You’re right, the joke was in poor taste,” Ty says. But it’s too quick. It feels like he’s just trying to assuage his fears, not that he’s genuinely remorseful over what he said.

“Okay,” Tony says simply, shortly. He doesn’t know what else to say.

“Let’s take a quick break,” Coulson cuts in. “Night’s almost up. I want to make sure that we have one more confessional before we get to the rose.”

Tony nods silently.

“Wait, there are things I still want to say,” Ty protests. “I don’t think that we’ve gotten through everything.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stone,” Coulson says. He doesn’t sound very sorry. “We’re out of time.”

Ty scowls and shoves away from the table, almost knocking his chair over. “Fine,” he snarls and stomps off with one of the other cameramen.

Tony watches him go and then heaves a deep sigh. He’s so ready for tonight to be over. Going into today, he’d had such high hopes and they’d all been dashed to pieces against the rocks of Ty’s obtuseness. At this point, he wants to get this over with so he can go back to his hotel and cry.

Coulson studies him for a minute and then says, “Do you think you’ve made a decision?”

Tony feels the tears choking his throat and nods. “Yeah,” he says around the thickness. “I have.”

“Ty, seeing you again for the first time in so long was everything I could have wanted out of that first night,” Tony says once Ty sits back down. He sniffs. Those damn tears are back again, threatening to fall. “It wasn’t just you. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that kind of connection with anyone before. But I need more than sparks flying. Today, I tried so hard to express what I needed, but I don’t think you were able to meet me halfway.”

Ty wets his lips. “Do you feel like we had enough time today? Or do you think we could’ve worked this out with more time?”

“We had as much time as any other date I’ve been on,” Tony says irritably. “One day is all you get.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t agree,” Ty says. “We lost so much time last week to the Pepper thing and—”

“Yeah, but you started the Pepper thing,” he reminds him. “If you think that we lost time, then that’s your fault.”

“I don’t think that—”

Tony can already tell that Ty’s going to blame someone else yet again, and he sighs so heavily that his body heaves with it. He doesn’t want to hear yet another excuse.

“I think that I deserve a second date,” Ty says, switching gears. “All I want for you is to have clarity, but I don’t think that you’ve had that with me. I know that I can be the alpha for you.”

The tears finally start to fall, and Tony shakes his head desperately, willing them away. “I don’t think you can,” he whispers. “You had your time to give me clarity, and you just missed the point, over and over again. I don’t know how I feel about you, but after today, I don’t think it’s good.”

“That’s very honest,” Ty remarks, trying for a chuckle and failing miserably.

Tony picks up the rose and looks at it for a long time. He swallows hard. It’s better to rip this bandaid off now than to let it sit.

“Ty,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you this rose.”

Chapter Text

Ty looks stunned, even upset. “What do you mean, you can’t give me this rose?”

Tony shakes his head, pressing his lips tightly together to stop a sob from emerging. When he feels like he can talk, he says, “I’m sorry. I just don’t see us getting to where I want us to be.”

He slowly puts the rose back on the table, giving himself every opportunity to talk himself out of it. But it doesn’t happen. He just feels a calm certainty, however devastated, that this had to happen. Ty’s hand twitches, like he wants to take the rose himself and pin it on.

“Why?” Ty asks. “I—what did I do wrong?”

“Don’t ask that,” Tony begs him. “I’ve spent all day trying to get you to meet me where I’m at, and you couldn’t do it. But it took raising my voice to get you even halfway there. We’re in one of my most favorite places in the world, but I’ve never been so frustrated. I don’t want that for my life.”

Ty laughs desperately, hands shaking as he reaches out to take Tony’s hands. Tony pulls his away. “But that’s not what it’s usually like with me!” he says shakily. “I’m not—”

“Maybe not,” Tony says quietly. “But today is all we get. I have to make a decision based on this. And I’m sorry, but I can’t do it.”

“But you want me to talk about my feelings—I can do that! I was frustrated today too! At myself and all of our conversations not really getting anywhere—”

“Ty—”

“—it could have been so much better. I can be better. Please. Think about what we’ve talked about tonight. From the very first night, every little detail, that connection that we have with each other. Just, Tony, please.

All of his careful emotions are stripped away, revealing a babbling, desperate alpha. Tony’s heart feels for him, it truly does. But—“Ty, I did think about all of that. I’m not making this decision lightly.”

“No, I know you’re not,” Ty agrees, leaning forward almost all the way across the table. “But I just think you’re not really thinking about the potential of us. I’m the first person in any relationship to say that something is my fault. This is my fault. I’m admitting that! My bad. I’ll completely take the blame here if that’s what it takes to move on.”

He looks so hopeful that Tony hates that he has to break his heart. But he does.

He shakes his head slowly. “I can’t,” he whispers. “I can’t move on.”

Ty sits back in his chair and breathes out heavily. He looks up at Tony, tears gleaming wetly in his blue eyes. “So this is over? Do I go home tonight?”

Tony nods silently, unable to say the words out loud. He doesn’t feel ready to call this quits, not even a little bit. But he doesn’t see any way forward for them. After everything today, this is over.

Ty closes his eyes, pained, and stands. Tony stands with him and steps into the last hug that Ty will ever offer him. They hold each other for a long time, silent tears dripping from Tony’s eyes, off his nose, and onto Ty’s jacket. He doesn’t want this to be over. He doesn’t want to say goodbye.

“Call me once the show is over, okay?” Ty asks when they finally pull apart. “I don’t want to go another twenty years without talking to you, even if we couldn’t make it work like this.”

Feeling like he owes it to him, Tony says, “Okay,” but he doubts they can make it work as friends either, not after this.

“Goodbye, Tony.”

“…Goodbye, Ty.”

He waits until the door has closed behind Ty before collapsing back into his seat and breaking out into noisy, body-shaking sobs. He knows that he did the right thing, he knows it. So why does it hurt so much?

He doesn’t know how long he sits there before he hears his name being called. At least ten minutes, he’s sure. The tears had stopped a few minutes ago but he’d still sat there, head bowed, staring at nothing. The entire day had kept running through his head at top speed, replaying over and over again as he questioned what he could have done differently to make Ty understand what he was saying. He’d been so sure at the beginning of the day that they would be able to talk things through, that Ty would be able to be the alpha Tony met during the first cocktail party, and instead, his heart’s been broken. Ty hadn’t been able to pull through.

And Tony is lying on the cold, hard ground, utterly shattered.

“Tony.”

He lifts his head up, unable to believe what he’s hearing. There Ty stands, framed in the doorway, the light spilling in from the street outlining his silhouette like a halo.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, not sure if he’s pleased to see that Ty is fighting for them—if that is what he’s doing—or upset that he’s ignoring Tony’s wishes.

“I couldn’t leave,” Ty gasps, taking a single step inside. The door swings shut behind him, revealing wet clothes and tamped down hair. It must have started raining at some point. “Tony, I am so sorry. This is my fault.”

Tony stands, and Ty must take that as an invitation because he approaches. He picks up Tony’s hands, lifts one to his mouth, and kisses the inside of his wrist. Tony shudders, from the cold touch of his mouth or because Ty has always had that affect on him, he doesn’t know.

“I couldn’t walk away without you knowing that I listened to you. I heard you. I got caught up in my head, and I didn’t know what to say because I was so lost in my own mind that I couldn’t put a name to the emotions I was having.”

“And you couldn’t have just said that?” Tony asks because it has to be said. He’s starting to see the barest glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel but he can’t let Ty off the hook that easily. Surely it wouldn’t have been that difficult to say that he was confused and didn’t know what emotions he was having.

“I thought about it. I wanted to stop you. You were breaking my heart, and it tore me apart. But you seemed so certain that this was what you wanted, and I thought it was better to walk away than to scream at you.”

Tony shakes his head. “I mean, yeah, no one likes being screamed at but that was better than you doing nothing. You let me feel like I was going insane because I couldn’t get anything through your head, and now you’re telling me that you knew all along but you couldn’t make yourself say the words?”

“I know,” Ty murmurs, wrapping his arms around Tony, who buries his head in Ty’s chest. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

“Why are you here, Ty?” Tony asks, muffled by Ty’s shirt. He’s so exhausted. Today has just been the worst rollercoaster, and he wants to get this over with.

“Because I still believe in us,” Ty says, so firmly that Tony pulls away to look at his face. Ty smiles down at him, confident and assured. “You wanted someone who would fight for you, and that’s me. I will fight for you until there is nothing left to fight for because we’re worth it. We have something so good, so incredible, and I can’t let that go yet.”

“Ty—”

“Can you hold onto that thought for just a second?” Ty lets him go, so abruptly that he sways on his feet. He moves away about ten feet, leaving Tony confused.

“What are you doing over there?”

“I didn’t think you’d appreciate me yelling in your ear,” Ty says ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck. “Tony, I want to move mountains for you.” His voice gets louder with each word until he is, indeed, shouting. Tony huffs a small laugh, disbelieving that this is actually happening. “I hate that our date went so shitty. I hate that I walked in here an hour ago thinking that you were going to put a rose on my coat, and I hate that you couldn’t even though I understood it. I hate that I couldn’t find the words to tell you this until I’d already left, but Tony, I am falling madly, wildly, in love with you.”

He takes a step closer and lowers his voice again. “You said that today is all we get, but I feel like I haven’t even had a day with you yet. I know today was the worst day you’ve had on this show, and I am so sorry that I didn’t tell you how I felt because it meant that I didn’t tell you that you are the most important thing in my life. You are the reason I get up in the morning, and I get excited every time I get to talk to you. Three weeks ago, I told you that I was falling in love with you, and I meant it, but every time I see you, I fall more in love.”

“And that means something to me,” Tony says, wrapping his arms around himself. “But, Ty, I still don’t know if I can go through this again. Are you taking what I’m saying seriously? Or if I give you that rose, are we still going to have to do this all over again just next week?”

“I know,” he says soothingly, taking another step closer so he can take hold of Tony’s arms and pull him in. “I know. But I get it now. I’m so sorry that we spent all day talking in circles, but I promise you, it’ll never happen again. Just please. Give me the rose. Let me have another chance to prove how strong my feelings are for you. I can see the rest of my life with you. I want to marry you. If you said yes, I’d get down on one knee right now. Just give me the rose.”

“I don’t know, Ty,” Tony whispers.

“Please,” Ty murmurs, his hands coming up to frame Tony’s face. He leans in and kisses him gently. “Please.” He kisses him again, longer this time. “Please.” The longest kiss yet, holding it until Tony is kissing him back because, as much as he hates to admit it, those sparks are still there. “You don’t even have to give me the rose. Just give me until tomorrow. Please, Tony.”

Tony’s heart is still confused, still hurt, still unsure that he can handle another week with Ty. But Ty came back, doesn’t that count for something? His speech was so heartfelt and meaningful, that should matter, right?

And so, despite his unsurety, despite his confusion, he still whispers, “Okay.”

Somehow, without planning it, everyone has gathered in Steve’s suite’s living room. Ty’s suitcase stands by the front door, waiting for either a crew member to pick it up to take it—and Ty—to the airport or for Ty to take it back to his room.

Steve knows which one he’s hoping for.

The cameras came in twenty minutes ago, waiting with them. The alphas are silent. The tension could be cut by a knife, it’s so thick.

Footsteps sound outside the suite’s door. Everyone straightens up, waiting anxiously to see who walks through the door. It creaks open, slowly, so slowly that Steve’s heart drops into the pit of his stomach. He feels sick. Surely if it was a crew member, they wouldn’t draw out the tension like this.

And sure enough, Ty walks through the door. But to Steve’s surprise, his lapel is free of the rose. He glances at Ty’s hand—no rose. At Ty’s pockets—no bulge that might indicate the rose is in there either.

“What are you doing here?” Bruce says bluntly.

“Uh, Tony didn’t think he could give me the rose,” Ty admits. Okay, so then what is Ty still doing here? “But he still wants me here. So I’ll be attending the rose ceremony with you.”

…Fuck.

Chapter Text

Nick stands in the corner, watching the wardrobe team pin the cape to the shoulder of Tony’s pantsuit. Tony himself stands quietly, solemnly, a troubling change from when he was being clothed for the first cocktail party. Nick can’t help but feel that the outfit itself reflects Tony’s new attitude. The outfit he wore on the first night was a bright, fun gold taffeta in a more sweet, more innocent style with its skirt and leggings. Tony’s outfit today is a burgundy wine pantsuit made from satin, with a split cape hanging from the top’s singular shoulder. The only concession to fun are the ornaments hanging from the shoulder and the bottom of the bodice. It’s a grownup outfit, a mature outfit, but it’s also a somber one that Tony looks all too at home in for someone who loves fun.

“Thank you,” Tony murmurs once he’s dressed and passed off to Angie for his makeup. The wardrobe team give Nick worried looks as they leave. He nods, acknowledging their concern.

He remembers the bright-eyed, grinning young man he’d seen step out of the limo that first night, how excited he’d been to begin his journey to love. That expression has been steadily disappearing since then but now, there’s no trace of it at all. It breaks what little bit remains of Nick’s heart to see it. He was the one who’d recommended Tony for this, thinking that everyone’s affection for him would limit the amount of problems on the show. Now that it’s been proven that that isn’t the case, that Alex has, if anything, increased the amount of trouble, he can’t help but feel at least partially responsible for the despairing exhaustion in Tony’s eyes.

Angie finishes applying the matching burgundy lipstick to Tony’s mouth and glances over at Nick, raising her eyebrows. He nods to her too, in answer to her silent question. He’ll talk to Tony before sending him out to the cocktail party. She leaves, leaving the two of them alone.

Tony starts to stand, only to sink back into his chair when Nick quietly asks, “Tony?” He looks down at his fingernails, picking at one of the cuticles as Nick approaches, as carefully as if he were afraid of startling a feral cat.

“What do you need, Nick?” he asks. “We’re already running late.”

“They’ll wait,” Nick says simply. Tony looks up then, eyes widening briefly in surprise. Nick can concede that he’s known for being strict about filming schedules. But tonight? Fuck ‘em. His godson is far more important than any schedule. “I wanted to make sure that you were doing okay.”

It’s a ridiculous question. Of course Tony isn’t okay. His heart is being torn in multiple directions, goaded on by Alexander Pierce, Tiberius Stone, and Justin Hammer. He’d walked onto this set, thinking that he knew how to get a happy ending out of this, and he’s watching those dreams crumble in front of his eyes so that Alex can get a highly-rated season out of his misery. If Tony is actually okay, then Nick will eat his hat.

Tony’s mouth twists, a garish, bloody slash across his wan face. As Nick could have predicted, he dodges the question, a sure sign that he doesn’t want to acknowledge the answer: “Concern from you, Uncle Nick? Don’t go getting sentimental on me now. I’ll have to test if you’re a clone, and that’s just such a mess.”

Nick waits. He’s known this boy his entire life. He knows how to make him talk.

Tony glances down, fidgeting, then back up at him. Finally, he admits, “I don’t know what I’m going to do tonight.”

What Nick wants to tell him is to cut Ty loose, that all of his misery is stemming from that one man, and he needs to let him go. But the problem with knowing Tony is also knowing that telling him to do something is a surefire way to make him dig in his heels. Everyone else in the cast is already telling him to send Ty home, and he knows that that has contributed to Ty being here longer than he should have been. He doesn’t need to hear it from Nick too when what he really needs is a friend more than he needs advice.

He says, “You’re going to do whatever your heart tells you to.”

“I don’t know if the alphas will like it.”

“Then fuck them,” Nick says simply. “It’s your life. Your relationship. You didn’t promise any of them exclusivity. They don’t have a say in your other relationships.”

“I wish it were that simple.”

Nick grimaces sympathetically. “I know,” he agrees. “Are you ready?”

“No,” Tony says, but he stands. He looks at himself in the mirror, takes a deep breath, and turns around to face him. “Let’s go.”

Steve has no idea how the production team got permission to film the cocktail party inside the Sistine Chapel. He would’ve thought that they were throwing around Tony’s wealth and influence again, but he doubts that even the Stark name—or Tony’s mother’s family, the Carbonells—would be enough to get them permission to set up inside one of the world’s greatest art sites. Truth be told, he’s kind of afraid to ask, lest he be told that they need to keep the noise down because they’re there illegally. At this point, it wouldn’t surprise him in the least to find out that Pierce would do something like that.

The actual cocktail party itself is in the Sistine Chapel, but Tony will be able to meet with the alphas in the Borgia Tower. He’ll have the run of the tower, but Steve’s team predict that he’ll make the most use out of the Raphael Rooms, which are currently being used to film confessionals before the party. Steve wants to know if they’re going to film the rose ceremony in the chapel too or if they’ll move to St. Peter’s Basilica or somewhere else within the Apostolic Palace. As someone who grew up Catholic—though he doesn’t consider himself one anymore—the use of the Vatican in this way makes him feel somewhat blasphemous.

“I had an amazing time with Tony on our one-on-one,” Steve tells the camera while they wait for Tony to arrive. This is the fourth time they’ve filmed his confessional after he kept getting distracted by the art in the room. He’s got it down pat by now. “It was magical, just everything I could’ve wanted from our date. I have a good feeling about us. But even though I’ve already got a rose, I’ll admit that I’m nervous about tonight.”

He shrugs, chewing on his bottom lip. “I don’t know where Tony’s head is at regarding Ty. I think that… anything could happen. He could send him home, he could keep him here. I figured last night that Ty would come back with a rose. I didn’t want him to, but that’s what I thought would happen. Returning without the rose? No one saw that coming. There’s a chance that he’ll get a rose at the ceremony, and I’ll admit to being worried about how everyone will react to that. We’ll see what happens.”

He returns to the chapel to find tensions already running high. It’s expected but still disappointing. Every time Steve is in a group setting on this show, he feels like he’s constantly on edge, just waiting for someone to snap. It’s exhausting. He’s never been on a job this tense before; he never would’ve expected it out of a reality TV show of all jobs.

Ty is talking about how he’s destined to get a rose tonight because why else would Tony have let him return to the hotel last night? Steve, however, thinks that it says an equal amount that Tony’s first instinct after an apparently terrible one-on-one, according to Sharon, was to kick Ty off. Ty was only allowed to stay after he refused to leave and begged Tony for a second chance, which angers him.

Finally, finally, they have proof that Ty is capable of ignoring and trampling all over other people’s boundaries to get what he wants. It should’ve been enough to get him kicked off. Sharon had even tried last night to bar him reentry to the restaurant after Tony told him to leave. That should have been the end of it. But Pierce had ordered her to step aside, insisting that it was romantic, not dangerous. Steve is going to insist on talking to him tonight and demand that, rose or not, Ty leaves the show tonight, but there’s a part of him that’s all too afraid that Pierce will wave him off or manipulate the situation to keep Ty, his best source of drama, on the show.

“I’m excited to make the most of my time with Tony tonight,” Ty says. “At the end of it all, I think we really cleared the air last night. Tonight will be nothing but smooth sailing.”

Bruce openly scoffs. “What you did last night was self-centered and just proved that you have no business being in an adult relationship. Tony told you to leave, and you ignored what he wanted because you wanted something different.”

“Hey, if Tony really wanted me gone, he could have insisted that I leave again!” Ty protests, holding up his hands. “He’s the one who made the choice to let me stay. He wants me here.”

“Of course,” Loki sneers. “Because you would have listened to him had he told you a second time to leave. You proved that you wouldn’t listen when you returned. If you truly cared about him, you would have stayed gone.”

“It’s because I care about him that I came back!” Ty shouts. “Why would I leave? Tony is going to marry whichever alpha he picks at the end of this. If I left, that’s the end of it for us, and I still think that we would make an incredible couple.”

“Wow, talk about an insult to Tony,” Janet mutters.

Bruce says, “Didn’t you ever hear ‘if you love something, let it go’? Tony made his choice. You couldn’t accept that, so you went back and you manipulated him into letting you stay.”

“I don’t appreciate you calling me abusive,” Ty hisses coldly, eyes narrowed. “You weren’t there. You have no idea what happened.”

Steve actually does, having gotten the full rundown from Sharon, and he knows just how manipulative Ty was the entire day, not just at the end. But this isn’t the time to have this conversation when Tony needs a win. He can only imagine how hurt and confused Tony must feel right now. He doesn’t need to walk into a group of alphas that are already arguing amongst themselves. Tony deserves better than that.

“Enough,” he says firmly. “If you want to argue about this, then do it on your own time. Tonight should be about Tony.”

Plenty of the other alphas look irritated by his intervention, but his warning comes none too soon. Already, he can hear Tony’s heels echoing on the floors of the antechamber. It’s time for them all to remember that they’re grown adults who don’t need to drag Tony into their petty disputes.

Like many people, Tony misses a step when he walks inside the chapel, but not for the usual reasons. He’s been to the Sistine Chapel before, and while it is stunning, it’s not the reason for his hesitation. No, that reason lies with the palpable tension he can feel as soon as he walks inside.

The alphas are gathered around a central table, sitting on antique sofas that decidedly do not belong in the Sistine Chapel, though whether they were purchased for the occasion or brought from elsewhere in the palace, he can’t say. Every single one of them is tensed, looking ready for a fight, although not everyone is angry with the usual source of tension. Half of them are shooting irritated glances at Ty, which Tony had predicted, but the other half, oddly enough, appear irritated with Steve.

The tension, whatever the cause, dissipates as soon as the alphas spot him. They rise, many of the angry expressions disappearing and hastily replaced with plastered-on smiles. It only makes Tony even more uneasy about tonight. How can he trust what any of them claim to be feeling when he knows what those smiles are hiding?

“There he is,” Sam says, one of the few whose smile actually looks genuine. “Hey, baby.”

“Hi,” Tony says, trying for a smile of his own. It feels fragile and brittle on his face. When a couple of the alphas falter, he has a feeling that they can tell how uncertain he is.

Bucky steps forward to hand him a champagne flute. “You look fantastic,” he tells him.

“Thank you,” Tony murmurs. He takes a deep breath. He can do this. Starks are made of iron, that’s what his dad always said, and he’s a Stark. He will not have another breakdown tonight.

“You all look great,” he starts, hoping that a compliment will lighten the mood. If it works, it’s not immediately apparent from anyone’s expressions. “This has been a big week for me. For the first time in a while, I feel like I’m going into this with my eyes wide open.”

He can see the doubtful expressions, but he means it. Ty is going to have to really work to earn a rose tonight. He hasn’t just dismissed what happened yesterday as a fluke or one bad day. There is every possibility that Ty showed his true colors on their date, and if he wants a rose, then he’s going to have to become the most spectacularly emotionally open alpha tonight. Otherwise, he’s going home. This will be the end of Ty and Tony.

“Some of you know that this week, I visited my mother’s family here in Italy. My grandmother offered me some advice, to focus on what is unseen, not what is seen. So tonight, when I talk to you, I want to know what’s hard to share. What makes you, you.” Ordinarily, he wouldn’t push, but he feels like so much time has been taken up with petty bullshit, that he hasn’t had a chance to really get past the superficial with most of the alphas here. He’s heard some of their darkest moments, but that’s only one facet that makes them, them.

“Those are the conversations that I want to have tonight,” he concludes. “And like I’ve always been, I promise that I’ll be just as open with you if you can be open with me.” He lifts his glass. “Cheers to focusing on the unseen.”

“Cheers,” the alphas echo, followed by the clinking of the crystalware.

“Tony,” Steve says, stepping forward, “do you mind if I grab you for a moment?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Tony replies, offering him a smile that finally feels genuinely strong. He always enjoys getting to talk to Steve these days. Steve is a breath of fresh air on every date that he’s on and every party he’s at, constantly focused on them and their relationship instead of on whatever’s going on around them.

They wind up in the Stanza dell’incendio del Borgo, taking a seat on one of the ornate couches placed there by the production crew. Steve leans in and kisses his cheek, stubble from where he missed a spot while shaving tickling Tony’s sensitive skin.

“How are you doing tonight?” Steve asks.

“I’m good,” he replies automatically.

Steve looks disbelieving. “So your inability to smile downstairs was because you’re so happy?” Tony gives him a rueful look. “I’m focusing on the unseen, remember?”

“A smile feels pretty seen,” Tony retorts lightly. He sighs, slumping back on the couch. “I don’t know, Steve. Yesterday was so awful, and I’m still not sure that I did the right thing, but I don’t know what else I could’ve done. I spent all day thinking about what I would do tonight, but I don’t feel any less confused.”

“I’m so sorry, Tony,” Steve says gently, pressing against his side to comfort him. Tony takes strength from his solidness.

He says, “Well, now that you’ve got me here, what did you want to talk about?”

“I’d kind of like to talk about your family since I really only know them from the engineering magazines that one of my friends gets,” Steve says, “but—”

“Oh no.”

Steve chuckles. “It shouldn’t be too bad, I hope. I just wanted to give you a heads up first.”

“Is this about people being upset that Ty is still here?” Tony says flatly.

“Somewhat.”

He slides down the couch until his head is only barely resting on the back. He groans, hiding his face in his hands. “I don’t know what else to say. I can’t explain it. Did I make the right decision? No idea. I just… yesterday was so terrible except for the last five minutes. But those five minutes were exactly what I wanted from him the entire time. And if he keeps showing me those kinds of emotions, then I’ll give him a rose every single time.” He pauses and peeks up at Steve through his fingers. “I’m sorry that we’re discussing my relationship with someone else when we’re supposed to be talking about us. But thanks for listening anyway.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Steve says.

Tony pulls his hands away from his face completely. “Sweetheart?” he asks curiously. It’s not the only petname he’s been given by the alphas so far, but it’s… well, sweet. Innocent. Makes him feel all gooey inside. He—he really likes it.

Steve looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “Is that okay?” he asks.

Tony nods mutely, eagerly. He scooches closer to lay his head on Steve’s shoulder. “I like being your sweetheart,” he says.

“I like calling you that,” Steve admits. “Anyway, I, uh, I wanted to give you a heads up. A lot of people aren’t too happy about Ty being here. I tried to put a stop to it before you got here, but I don’t know how well it’ll work. I just wanted you to have one peaceful night to think things through without anyone butting in with their opinion.”

Touched, Tony rubs his nose against Steve’s sleeve. “Thanks,” he says. “That means a lot to me.”

Before he heads back to the chapel, Steve tracks down the crew’s room to find Pierce. Pierce is bending over one of the sound technicians’ workstations, ordering her to hurry up and fix an issue with Nick’s mic.

“We need to talk,” Steve snaps, striding up to him.

“Mr. Rogers,” Pierce sighs, turning a baleful glare on him. “What is it this time?”

“Ty Stone,” he spits.

Pierce slowly straightens up, putting his hands on his hips. He eyes Steve with pursed lips. Steve waits him out. He can do this all day. Pierce is repeating the same mistakes that he made with Betty Ross five years ago, letting obsessive and manipulative contestants return after their elimination for the sake of drama. It wasn’t okay then, and it’s not okay now. Steve will make him understand that if it kills him—so that it doesn’t kill Tony.

Eventually, Pierce says, “I’m not really sure I see what concern of yours that is.”

Steve only barely manages to stop his jaw from dropping open. “What?”

Maria, at one of the other workstations, nudges one of the lower production assistants. “Follow him,” she mutters inanely.

“You heard me,” Pierce says tersely. “It’s none of your concern.”

“Of course it’s my ‘concern,’” Steve volleys. “As you so kindly put it, Tony is my job. It’s on me to determine that he’s safe. When I agreed to this job, I told you that I wasn’t okay with contestants coming back. It was a safety risk.”

“Yes, I recall you saying something about that.” Pierce looks too nonchalant for the rage Steve feels coursing through him. “I was surprised to hear it at the time. I would’ve thought you’d read your contract more closely. The network agreed to allow contestants to return after their elimination as long as we provided on-site security and a bodyguard undercover as one of the contestants. You and your team are meant to be the deterrents against any retaliation from any eliminated alpha, or do you not feel up to the task?”

Steve stares disbelievingly at him. “You’ve got to be fucking joking,” he utters. The worst part is that he can absolutely see Pierce doing this. Whether it was in the contract originally and they missed it or Pierce added it in later, this kind of twisted stunt is exactly the kind of thing he’d pull to hamstring them yet again.

“Now, really, Mr. Rogers—”

“You don’t care if he lives or dies, do you?” Steve challenges. “As long as you get your most dramatic season ever.”

Finally, Pierce looks annoyed. “That’s a little overdramatic, don’t you think?”

“That’s not a no,” Steve says softly. He waits to see if Pierce will refute him, but when it becomes clear that he won’t, he scoffs, shakes his head, and turns on his heel to walk away. It’s all he can do.

“I had an incredible time with you during the group date,” Loki says. He’d been the second alpha to find Tony after his conversation with Steve. Tony is relieved that Steve’s warning to the other alphas is holding strong. First Janet and now Loki are sticking to their relationship with Tony instead of bringing up his one-on-one with Ty.

“I had a great time with you too!” Tony says. “You have amazing hands.” He picks up one of the hands in question and kisses the back of it.

“Thank you,” Loki purrs, blue eyes going as dark as midnight rain. “I’ve never had an omega complain about them before.”

“And you still don’t have any,” Tony jokes. “I enjoyed getting to talk to you more about your dad’s expectations for your company. I know we talked about it when we had our one-on-one last week, but it was great getting more in-depth on the group date.”

Loki smiles and shifts on the couch so that he can face him more fully. “You make me feel so comfortable opening up about even the things I’ve never shared with anyone,” he confesses. “I love that about you.”

Tony stretches out one leg to brush his ankle against Loki’s. “I love that you were able to share that with me. Getting to know you more has been so much fun. I, honestly, I can’t wait to see where our relationship goes because I really think we have something here. And I know there’s still eleven other alphas out there that I’m developing a relationship with too, but I mean it. I really think we have potential.”

“I believe you,” Loki says. He leans forward and kisses the corner of Tony’s mouth. “I hope that you can believe me when I say that I am here for you, as a partner or a friend. It took me a couple of weeks to open up, but I think we’re doing rather admirably now, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Before we get into what you spoke about earlier, about focusing on the unseen, I hope you don’t mind that I have a question for you,” Loki says slowly. Is he uncertain about his question being inappropriate or something?

Tony encourages, “Of course.” Focusing on the unseen isn’t just for the contestants, but for him too. He’ll be happy to answer any questions that Loki has—or any of them, for that matter.

“I’ll apologize in advance, but this has been bothering me for a bit, so I’d like to speak about it now before the rose ceremony. I know that your second one-on-one this week was with Ty.”

A wave of cold washes over him. No. No. He doesn’t want to talk about this. Shifting away from Loki, he says cooly, “Yes.”

“I’m not going to question your decisions yesterday,” Loki hastily reassures him. “But before he left, I requested, given the events of last week, that he not speak about any of us, that he would, so to speak, keep our names out of his mouth. He agreed that he would. Yesterday, after he returned, I asked him if he had, and he said that he did. I want to make sure that he kept his promise.”

“I… see,” Tony says flatly. To an extent, he does. It was, after all, Ty’s word about what happened between him and Pepper that started the arguments last week. But the way Loki phrased it, the automatic assumption that he can’t trust anything Ty says, needles at him. He’s not blind to everyone’s dislike of Ty but circumventing him to ask Tony directly what happened doesn’t feel particularly mature.

And then, of course, there’s the fact that this is being brought up at all when Steve warned the contestants off of talking about Ty. Tony himself warned them off at the beginning of the week when he told them all to reset. It just feels like every time he tries to move on from this mess, he’s not allowed to; he has to be yanked right back to where they were.

He bites the inside of his lip, chewing over his answer. Eventually, he says, “I know that you dislike Ty.”

“It isn’t only me—”

“Fine. I’m aware that all of you dislike Ty, is that better? Yeah, Ty and I talked about how you and the other alphas feel about him on our date. He mentioned, um—” He casts his mind back. It had been such a small moment, he hardly remembers it. “He did mention your name, Bruce’s, I think he mentioned Natasha? But I pretty much asked for specifics. It wasn’t like he just brought you up unprompted. I was the one who wanted to know what the situation was.”

“Very well,” Loki concedes. “Thank you.”

Wanda knocks on the door. “Tony, do you mind if I steal you away?” she asks politely.

Tony gives her a relieved smile. “Yeah, absolutely,” he says graciously.

Hopefully, she won’t ask about Ty too.

As soon as Loki returns to the chapel, Steve knows that things are about to devolve very soon, very quickly. He mentally groans, frustrated by these contestants’ inability to let things go. He doesn’t know for certain what Loki must have asked Tony to put that look on his face, but remembering back to what he’d said before Ty’s one-on-one, he’d put money on Ty pointing fingers at specific people.

“Ty,” Loki says coldly. He folds himself gracefully down onto the couch, with Ty standing just behind him. “I asked you before your date to make sure that you didn’t bring anyone up. You said you wouldn’t. When you returned, I asked if you had, and you assured me that you hadn’t. Please tell me, then, why, when I asked Tony, he said that you brought up Bruce, Natasha, and myself.”

“Excuse me?” Bruce says, turning a icy glare on Ty. “After you explicitly promised not to? I don’t even know why I’m surprised. We all know you’re a liar.”

Natasha crosses her legs, sitting back. Her expression is so calm that Steve can only think of the Bolton Strid. “What did you say, Tiberius?”

Steve closes his eyes, frustrated. This can’t be happening. Not again. Why is it so impossible for these alphas to let something go? Tony hadn’t seemed upset with anyone other than Ty, so why are they pushing this issue?

“Let me put this glass down,” Ty says, reaching over T’Challa to place his flute on one of the tables. “I told you that I didn’t want to give up my time with Tony by wasting it talking about any of you.”

“Did you?” Sam says mildly. “I don’t remember that.”

“Then your memory is faulty,” Ty snaps. “Because I did.”

Unless he said it while Steve wasn’t around, which he doubts, then Ty definitely didn’t say that, but any attempts at tripping him up never result in anything other than him doubling down. And frankly, he doesn’t want to deal with it tonight.

“You’re avoiding the point,” Natasha says. “What did you say about us?”

“That isn’t the point either,” Loki points out.

Ty starts to say, “Hang on—”

“What did I ask you before you left?” Loki pushes.

“Can I say something, please?” Ty asks. “Let me finish.”

“What did I ask you?”

“You have to let me finish.”

“I asked you not to mention anyone else. And you said…?”

“Listen,” Ty insists. Steve shakes his head. It feels like a repeat of the Pepper debacle all over again with Ty insisting that no one is listening to him and then blatantly lying once he’s given the floor. “I did say Bruce’s name on the date yesterday. I did talk about both of you—” He points at Loki and Natasha—“but it wasn’t anything negative. Tony just wanted to know specifics about things going on in the house, so I gave him the facts. That’s it.”

“Ty, no one believes you,” Bruce says, then repeats it louder. “No one believes you.”

“I—”

“Nobody believes you!”

“Will you just shut up and let me finish?” Ty shouts.

“Why? So you can tell us more lies that we won’t believe?” Loki says.

“Okay,” Steve says firmly. “That’s enough.”

“Oh, you hush too,” Loki tells him. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m on the side of remember what this is all supposed to be about,” Steve replies, hating that he’s being drawn into this. But it’s his job. He can’t stop Ty by force, so instead, he has to use his words to defuse the situation. And if that means that it looks like he’s on Ty’s side, then so be it. He hates it, but sometimes, that’s the way things have to be.

“Ty,” he continues, “keep your mouth shut before you get yourself bodily thrown out of here.” He nods in the direction of his team, who are poised to intervene. He’d love for Ty to actually threaten someone, so that he can finally throw him off the show, but Ty might hurt someone in the process.

“Bruce, Loki, calm down,” he starts.

Bruce, however, lunges to his feet. “Don’t compare me to him!” he yells so loudly that his voice echoes off the walls, jabbing his finger at Ty.

Steve, taken aback, gapes at him. Well. There’s that temper that showed up in Bruce’s background check. He just hadn’t thought it’d be directed at him.

“—brother coordinates the relief efforts in Sokovia while I send the money from my shows home,” Wanda is saying, and her and her twin’s efforts to aid their war-torn country sound absolutely fascinating, but Tony can barely pay attention to it.

For the last couple of minutes, even all the way down the hall and up the stairs, the noise from the rest of the cocktail party has been growing steadily louder. It’s clearly an argument. He can’t make out individual words, but he can definitely tell the tone. People are not happy. Given what Loki had asked him during their time together, he’d be willing to put money on what they’re not happy about too.

He's so over it.

“Wanda, I’m so sorry,” he interrupts her. “I’d love to continue our conversation, but I think I need a moment to deal with this.”

She casts a rueful look in the direction of the chapel. “Of course,” she says. “I understand.”

He nods at her as she quietly leaves. Once she’s gone, once he’s alone, he puts his head in his hands and screams. Why, why, can’t he have one peaceful night? Why does it always have to be some kind of confrontation with these alphas? What is so impossible about staying in their own lane? It’s getting to the point where he wonders if any of them are truly here for him or if they’re all just here for their fifteen minutes of fame, because surely, if it was about falling in love, they’d be able to stop worrying about what Ty did or didn’t say and focus on their relationship instead.

It feels selfish to even think, that he should be the center of their worlds, but this season is supposed to be about him. Instead, it feels like it’s all about Ty. No, it doesn’t even feel like it—it is. The proof is in the fact that, even though Wanda must have returned downstairs by now, no one else has come to talk to him. They’re too busy fighting with Ty.

Alright, he’s done with his pity party. Time to go shut this down. As the only other person who was there and can say exactly what happened, it’s on him to clear things up. He’s not having tonight turn into another spectacle.

He gets up, grabs his champagne flute, and chugs it like it was a cheap beer. “Alright,” he says. “Let’s get this over with.”

He stalks downstairs, into the chapel, and says sourly, “Did any of you know that you could just ask me what happened yesterday? Or are you too busy comparing your knots to remember that someone else was there?”

Everyone shuts up real fast.

“I can hear you upstairs,” he says. “Did you know that? All the fucking way upstairs. Stop. This is so fucking ridiculous. I can’t even hear myself think. You guys are supposed to be adults, so why are you always fighting like it’s high school all over again? It’s so frustrating. If you don’t want to believe Ty when he says that nothing happened yesterday, then fine. But you can ask me. I will answer any question that you want me to if it means that we can stop talking about this and move on.”

For a long moment, no one says anything. Then—“Okay, I’ll bite if no one else will,” Steve says.

Tony shoots him a grateful look. Out of everyone here, he thinks that Steve is the least worried about whatever Ty did or didn’t say. He has no idea why that is, but Steve consistently is the one most invested in keeping things on topic and focused on the two of them instead of whatever conflict is going on with everyone else, and he appreciates that.

“Go right ahead,” he says, waving his hand forward.

“What—”

“Actually, let me just interrupt here,” Ty says suddenly. “Let me explain to Tony what’s going on here.”

“I don’t need—” Tony starts to say but Janet talks over him.

“You’ll get your chance to talk later,” she says poisonously sweetly. “But Tony’s opened up the floor to the rest of us, so we’re going—”

“I just want to talk about what Loki accused me of—”

“And you’re saying names again!” Loki exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air.

“No,” Ty protests, “but this conversation wasn’t even how it all got brought up. I was explaining to them—because Loki asked me before our date and then when I got back if I’d said anything about them, and I said no because it wasn’t even anything negative, it was barely even a mention—so I was telling them that so I could clear things up—”

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Bruce interrupts, which wouldn’t be so bad except that he’s still addressing it to Ty and not to Tony. “When I’m with Tony, I’m focused on the two of us. So what I’m confused by is, when you’re spending time with Tony on your one-on-one, how does anyone else even come up?”

“Because—” Ty begins, but Tony is tired of being sidelined in a conversation that he started.

“I asked him what was going on in the house,” he says loudly. “If I’m going on a one-on-one with someone, then I need to be able to clear the air completely. That is the only reason why we talked about other people on our date. But I spent eight hours with Ty yesterday, and I swear, that is the only time that anyone’s names came up. Is that enough for you?”

“Of course,” Bruce agrees much too conciliatorily.

Tony’s eyes narrow. He feels like he’s being condescended to. He adds, “I haven’t heard anything about you having a conflict with anyone, so I haven’t felt the need to ask you what’s going on with, I don’t know, Thor or whoever. But if I had, I would’ve asked. So stop jumping down Ty’s throat for answering a question that I had about the conflicts that all of you said you had with him. If you didn’t want your name to come up, then you shouldn’t have told me you had problems with him.”

“Okay,” Bruce says. “I understand now.”

“Do you?” Tony challenges. He looks around the room. “Do any of you? Because I think you think that I’m defending him because I like him when this is something that I would do for any of you if you were being dogpiled like this. I know some of the shit that Ty’s done. We talked about it yesterday.”

Ty nods his agreement, but he doesn’t open his mouth, which Tony appreciates. He’s sure it would just start another argument.

“I know that most of you don’t like him,” Tony says.

“I think you mean all of us,” someone mutters but he can’t catch who.

He breathes out hard through his nostrils, temper flaring. This is so fucking ridiculous. He is wasting his time on this when it’s none of their businesses. “Fine. I know that all of you don’t like him, does that make you happy? But you all keep complaining that I don’t see the real him, and then when I try to figure out what it is that you’re seeing that I’m supposedly not, you complain that he shouldn’t be talking about you. Which is it? Because I can’t figure anything out if he can’t tell me specifics.” He turns to Ty. “And Ty, I am so sorry that I’m talking about what happened on our date in front of everyone else—”

“It’s okay,” Ty says quietly.

“But none of you will listen to him apparently, so let me be the one to clear things up.” Fuck, he’s so mad that he’s shaking. Even his voice comes out unsteady when he keeps talking. “I am so tired of hearing you guys screaming at each other when you could just ask me. You do trust me to tell you the truth, right? If you don’t, you can walk out right now. I don’t know what you’re still doing here if you think that I’ll lie to you about something as stupid as who said what.”

“Of course we trust you,” T’Challa says gently.

Tony ignores him. “Loki will tell you. I’ll tell you what happened if you just ask. But hearing you fighting from another room is ridiculous, so I’m not sorry for storming in here.” He tilts his head to the side. “Or for insulting your knots.”

“I understand,” Bruce says.

Loki nods but then explains, “I was only put on-edge because I specifically asked Ty if he’d mentioned anyone’s names, and he told us that he hadn’t. But when I spoke to you, you told me that certain names had been mentioned.”

Tony sighs. Can’t they just move past this? “Loki, if you ask me if I mentioned anyone’s names after I had a confrontation with another alpha, I’m going to assume that you mean negatively, not that you mean at all.”

“Exactly,” Ty chimes in. “The last thing I wanted to do was talk about any of you. But when Tony asks me a specific question about events, I’m going to say whatever I can remember. None of it was in-depth. It was just what I could think of. You were barely even mentioned. So I’m sorry if you think that I was lying to you when all I meant was that I wasn’t trying to bring anyone down—”

“I just don’t—”

“And I did explain—”

“We’re all confused by—”

“Why couldn’t you just—”

At least half a dozen alphas are all talking over each other, and it’s just so infuriating. Nothing new is being said. They’re all just rehashing the same points over and over again. It feels like he’s right back there on that one-on-one, but this time with a dozen alphas instead of the one. And because it’s a dozen alphas, not just one, not a single one of them is stopping to listen to what he’s actually saying instead of continuing to squabble with each other over perceived petty slights. He’s over it, completely.

He turns around and just walks back out, pausing by the door long enough to ask Wanda, who’s standing there, “Do you want to finish our conversation?” But she doesn’t even hear him over the building volume in the middle of the room.

None of them do.

Steve takes one look at the devastated, exhausted look on Tony’s face as he leaves and aches to go after him, to reassure him that there are people here, good people, who care more about him than this bullshit. But he can’t. This is a tense, volatile situation, rapidly growing more so by the second. If it explodes, he’ll never forgive himself if one of his team members got hurt because he wasn’t there. At the end of the day, this is his job. He can’t just cut out because he wants to.

The second a break in the argument occurs, Sam butts in to say, “Can we please just give it a rest? I’m just as done with this as Tony is. Did any of you see him when he left? The way he looked? Come on.”

Steve nods along, silently agreeing with him. It’d be even better if Sam got up and went to tell Tony that. He can admit that there’s a part of him that doesn’t want Sam to go, doesn’t want them to grow closer, but his feelings don’t matter. The defeated look in Tony’s eyes is what matters. And if it takes Sam following him to get rid of it, then Steve will gladly step aside.

“You’re only saying that because you weren’t one of the people whose name came up,” Loki says.

“For heaven’s sake,” Ty sighs. “Tony told you that he wasn’t defending me. There wasn’t anything to defend. I didn’t point fingers at anyone and insist that you weren’t there for the right reasons or whatever other nonsense you’ve come up with in your head that I must have said. There was a lot on my mind that I needed to clear up with him, but I didn’t lie to any of you intentionally. I wouldn’t do that. Do you get what I’m trying to say?”

“No,” Bruce says bluntly. “Because, you need to remember, you have lied to us in the past. So how can I trust what you’re saying now?”

“You don’t, but Tony told you—”

“It’s the principle of the thing—”

Tony downs another glass of champagne.

He hadn’t gone far, just out into the darkened corridor, where he can listen as they continue to bicker and nitpick over the smallest of slights. He hates this. He hates everything about this. He hates that he feels obligated to stand up for someone that, just yesterday, he was ready to eliminate. He hates that hardly anyone has come to talk to him in favor of arguing about Ty. He hates that he stood there and asked them to have him clarify what happened and they were more interested in yelling at Ty than they were in listening to what he said.

Who is going home tonight, he asks himself silently. After all of this, does he still feel comfortable sending Ty home? There’s a part of him that says yes, that points out that conflict is still circling around Ty and will continue to circle around him until he goes home—if he goes home. But there’s another, contrary, part of him that tell him to keep Ty here, that says he still isn’t sure there’s not a happily ever after in store for them. The drama tonight has one hundred-percent been caused by the other alphas, not Ty. It makes him question if the drama last week was caused by them too, if Ty was ever at fault for the events at the rodeo and the cocktail party.

His heart is more confused than ever. He can barely think straight, he’s so frustrated. Tony doesn’t know who he’s misjudged or if he’s misjudged anyone. He doesn’t know who’s lying to him, who’s truly here for him, and who’s putting on a façade.

What he does know is that he wants tonight to be over.

“Get me another glass,” he says into the stillness of the hall.

None of the crew move for a beat.

“Now,” he snaps.

“Tony, are you sure—” Katy starts.

“Did I fucking stutter?” he shouts. The worst part is that there isn’t even a break in the noise coming from the chapel.

Katy glances at Darcy, at Coulson. They both look as lost as she does. Tony can’t bring himself to care. She silently hands him another glass. He tosses it back in one go.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m going back in there.”

“Tony—”

“Nope. I’m going in there.” He can handle his liquor usually, but whether it’s the three glasses in rapid succession or the anger washing through him, he’s starting to feel a slight tingling in his fingers. “We’re done here. Tell Pierce he wins. We’re going into the rose ceremony. I came in here wanting to open up to these alphas, and now I don’t. And that’s okay! I think it’s pretty obvious that they don’t want to open up to me either! So if all they want to do is argue, then they can do it back at the house instead of wasting my time. I want to get out of these heels.”

“You don’t have to wear them,” someone says quietly.

Tony points at them. “Good. I’m not.” He kicks the heels off, not watching to see where they land, runs his hands through his hair, and marches back into the chapel.

Go figure. Other than Steve, who gives him a sympathetic look, the alphas don’t even notice him walk in. Janet and Ty are arguing now, Janet over semantics and Ty insisting that he was tired or whatever. Tony’s mouth twists. Never, in all his years watching these shows, has he ever seen such petty drama.

“Ty, stop making excuses,” he announces, stomping over. “We’ve already talked about it. It’s not any better when you’re making excuses to them instead of me. It’s so irritating, and if I’m irritated, then I know everyone else is. Own up to your flaws. Fix them. Do better.”

“Thank you,” Janet exclaims.

“Oh no,” he snaps, turning his attention on her—on all of them. “I’m not letting you off either. Stop focusing on Ty. I’m serious. I will send all of you home right now, and this will be the first season in Bachelor Nation history that ends with the lead picking no one.”

“We’re just trying to help,” Thor rumbles.

“I am a grown-ass omega,” Tony says shortly. “I can figure this out for myself. I don’t need you to tell me how to think. If I wanted that, I would’ve mated Whitney. Or Ivan. Hell, I wouldn’t have even had to come on this show. Trust me, there are plenty of alphas out there who’d like a pretty, decorative omega who comes with a fortune. But you’re not a part of my relationship with him, just like he’s not a part of my relationship with you. I know that you think I’m defending him, like I should only be concerned about him, but I have concerns about plenty of you, but I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. Stop pointing fingers at other people. You’re not some kid running to the teacher to tattle. You’re grown adults.”

Embarrassingly, his voice cracks in the middle of the last sentence. Tears are welling up in the corners of his eyes, just adding to his shame. He shakes his head, trying to get rid of them, but instead, they spill over, trailing down his cheeks. He’s so tired of this. He just wants it to be over.

“You’re all so concerned about what other people are doing,” he gasps, wrapping his arms around himself. He rocks back and forth on the balls of his bare feet. “But you should be focusing on yourself and what I need from you. None of you are blameless here. You’re all upsetting me, not just Ty. I came in here ready to get to know you deeper, but you’re all so busy arguing that you didn’t even notice when I walked out. There are twelve of you here, and only a third of you came to talk to me. I wanted to share things about me that none of you know, but right now, I don’t feel like any of you even care. You don’t know anything about me, you never even ask! If we’re not talking about whatever Ty said, then all we do is talk about you.”

He’s completely sobbing now, barely able to get the words out through his tears. But it has to be said. He has to get through this, so that he can go back to his hotel room and pack for yet another miserable week in what was supposed to be paradise.

“I don’t want to do this,” he whispers. “And I don’t have to. So, tonight? I’m done. We’re done. We’ll pick this back up next week.”

The worst part, he thinks, is that no one has anything to say as he leaves.

“This is what I didn’t want to happen,” Steve says into the stunned silence left in Tony’s wake. He’d thought he’d heard Tony shouting in the corridor earlier, in the middle of Janet, Thor, and Ty’s argument, but it’d been so hard to hear over the argument. Now, though, with it as still as it is, he can definitely hear him sobbing, and it kills him. “There was no reason to have this argument. You were arguing over semantics, and you know it. But the fact of the matter is that there is an omega out there, crying over what we did.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “You know, when we all came here, we said we were here to put Tony first. We’re all hopeful that we’re going to be able to marry him. But none of our behaviors tonight reflected that.”

“Exactly,” Steve says. “We’re messing this up completely. We have to do better.”

Bucky nods. “I hate seeing him look like that, and I can’t believe we let it get this bad.”

“We were petty,” Pepper says simply. “Tony’s right. We weren’t focused on him tonight, and it hurt him. We shouldn’t have been so selfish. If we’d been thinking about building our relationship with him up instead of tearing other people down, none of this would’ve happened.” Steve notices that she can’t help but cast a lethal side-eye at Ty, though.

“I’m sorry I was petty,” Bruce speaks up. “I can admit it. I was petty.”

“As was I,” Loki says quietly.

Bruce shakes his head in shame at himself. “I’m sorry for my part in ruining tonight. I’ll apologize to Tony when I see him next.”

Ty nods and says, “Bruce, I can’t speak for everyone else, but I, personally, appreciate your apology. I had important things to tell Tony that I didn’t get to because tonight was derailed, so I appreciate you owning up to it.”

“Oh my god,” Pepper breathes.

Steve just closes his eyes and prays that no one jumps on Ty for not apologizing for his own part in this mess. He can’t handle more fighting tonight. Is Ty a dick for forgiving Bruce but not apologizing himself? Yeah, absolutely. But Tony’s just proven that this is not the time nor place for that kind of infighting.

Fortunately, though, no one says a word.

It takes Nick almost fifteen minutes to find Tony tucked away into a hidden corner of the palace. The entire crew is looking for him, but Nick is his godfather. He knows him better than anyone here, even those who’ve known him for just as long. He knows exactly how Tony thinks, and so he goes down instead of up, and eventually, he finds him, curled up on the floor on the other side of the palace.

His godson is still crying, sobs wracking his frame. Nick isn’t one for emotional displays, but he wishes like hell that he’d never put Tony’s name out there for consideration. If he’d had any idea what was going to happen, he would’ve kept his mouth shut. No one deserves to be put through this kind of nightmare, but least of all the kid he helped raise.

Something moves out of the corner of his eye, and he turns to see Coulson, camera mounted on his shoulder. He sighs and runs a hand over his face.

“Can’t you just give him one night?” he asks, begging without begging.

Coulson looks torn but he still shakes his head. “Pierce’s orders.”

Of course they are.

“Fuckin’ A,” Nick mutters. Accepting that this is going to wind up on television, he approaches, grateful that Tony has wedged himself into a corner because it means he can crouch down and mostly block him from the camera’s view. “Hey.”

Tony whimpers and buries his tear-streaked face into his arms even harder. “Please tell me there’s not a fucking camera over there.”

“You know I can’t promise that,” Nick says, as gently as he can. He lays a hand on Tony’s shaking shoulder.

“Right,” Tony mumbles. “Don’t know why I expected any different. You’re still the host of this goddamn show.”

“Right now I’m not the host of anything,” Nick says, rubbing Tony’s shoulder. “I’m just an old man who cares about you very much.”

Tony sobs again.

“Do you want a hug?”

“You don’t give hugs.”

“Okay,” Nick agrees because someone has to listen to Tony’s boundaries. He starts to pull away.

“Wait.”

The next thing he knows, he has a sobbing Tony in his arms. “Hey, hey,” he soothes. “I’ve got you. Uncle Nicky’s got you.”

“Please don’t ever call yourself Uncle Nicky again,” Tony cries, tears making his suit jacket uncomfortably damp.

Despite himself, Nick chuckles. “Alright, I won’t.” He turns to look over his shoulder. “Coulson, give me one of those stupid handkerchiefs you’re always carrying around.”

“Are they still stupid when you need them?” Coulson posits.

“Yes,” Nick says without hesitation, swiping the handkerchief from Coulson’s fingers. As he’d hoped, the byplay makes Tony manage a giggle. “Here.” He waits while Tony pats at his eyes and cheeks, drying away the tears. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m on camera,” Tony spits. “Do I even have a choice?”

Nick says firmly, “Yes. I’ll tell Alex the footage was corrupted if I have to.”

Tony glances up and gives him the tiniest smile he’s ever seen. “Really?”

“Really.” Nick has comforted plenty of distraught bachelorettes over his tenure as host, and he’s never offered to deliberately lose footage before, but it’s Tony. He can’t keep quiet about this.

“I want to talk about it,” Tony says. Nick thought he would. Tony hates to be forced into things but give him the option and he’ll open right up. “I just—I thought I could do this. I grew up in this world. I know how it works. But it’s just been awful.” He hiccups another sob but doesn’t start crying again, so Nick counts it as a win. “I wish I’d never agreed to do this.”

“You’ve met some pretty amazing people,” he says, trying to offer a silver lining. If Tony truly wants to back out, then he’ll support him in that completely. But before he does, he wants to make sure that that’s genuinely what Tony wants and isn’t a reaction to tonight.

“Yeah, but every time I try to deepen my relationship with them, we wind up having to talk about stupid bullshit. I don’t even know why this whole thing was a fight in the first place. I could’ve cleared things up without any of this drama.”

“I know,” Nick says. “I’m sorry, Tony. It shouldn’t have happened like that.”

“No. It shouldn’t have.”

“Do you want to call it quits now? You don’t have to make a decision. You can go home.”

“But Pierce—”

“I’ll handle Alex,” Nick states. If Alex thinks that he can pull the kind of bullshit he’s been pulling this season and still sue Tony for breaking under the pressure, then he’s got another thing coming. “Do you want to quit? Or do you want to go into the rose ceremony?”

Tony stares at his arms for so long that Nick thinks he’s going to quit. But then—“I want to do the rose ceremony.”

Chapter Text

Tony is quiet when he enters the chapel. He’d done some soul-searching while the crew was taking away the couches and tables for the cocktail party and replacing them with the podium and the roses, asking himself if he felt confident in his decision of who to send home tonight. He’d tried to force himself to think rationally about it, but there’s no way to be rational about what happened tonight. There are people going home tonight who probably wouldn’t have if this party hadn’t happened. There are people who aren’t going home who might have if they hadn’t irritated him so much. There are people who are staying who irritated him but he still believes there’s a possible future there.

What frustrates him more than anything is that he knows most, if not all, of the alphas won’t understand his decisions. They don’t have to—at the end of the day, it’s his life—but he doesn’t want it to feed into yet another argument. He’s not asking them to understand, but he is asking them to set it aside.

His bare feet make no sound as he walks across the deathly silent chapel. Pierce had tried to insist on him putting his heels back on, but Tony had stuck fast to his guns. They were uncomfortable, and he’s tired. Fury had stepped in to argue his case when Pierce kept trying to insist, and in the end, Tony had gotten his way.

The alphas are lined up in their two rows, only Steve and Sam looking calm rather than nervous. Good. He likes it, wants it, that way after what they put him through tonight. They should be nervous that, no matter how much he liked them before this cocktail party, they could still be going home because they couldn’t keep their mouths shut. He lets them squirm for another moment, staring them down, before he finally picks up the first rose on the table.

He doesn’t have anything kind to say in advance. He doesn’t have anything to say at all. In the past, he’s said something about how the night went but they all already know how it went. They know how upset he is. There’s nothing more to be said.

“Bucky,” he says, starting the rose ceremony. If nothing else, he’s sure about Bucky.

Bucky breathes out an explosive sigh. He manages half a relieved smile as Steve, standing next to him, pats his back. Stepping forward, his smile grows fuller.

“Will you accept this rose?” Tony asks him, holding it out.

“Of course,” Bucky says, standing still for him to pin it on. He gives Tony a hug once he’s finished, steady as a rock and reassuring. “I’m so sorry about how tonight went.”

“Thanks,” Tony murmurs. He picks up the next rose. “T’Challa.”

T’Challa closes his eyes and mutters a fervent, “Thank Bast.”

For what feels like the first time in hours, Tony actually manages a smile. “T’Challa, will you accept this rose?”

“Always.” Another hug. Another murmured “I wish tonight had been different.”

Yeah, he does too, but hindsight is a bitch, isn’t it?

“Natasha,” he calls. He’d appreciated how she had handled the group date this week, her poise when she realized she wouldn’t be able to participate in the games, her openness when Loki had had to sit out with them and she’d had to relinquish her time. And, if he’s being honest, he likes how physical they are together. Natasha makes him wet, makes him feel sexy, and even if he isn’t sure that he can build a relationship on that, he’s not ready to let it go.

“Natasha, will you accept this rose?”

“Of course, котенок,” she says. When she hugs him, her reassurance is, “Next week will be better. I will make sure of it.”

With that scary look in her eyes, he believes her.

He picks up the next rose. “Pepper,” he says. It’s not just guilt over last week that has him calling her name, but his hope that they can still build something out of the ashes of their torched relationship. He had really liked her those first few weeks, and though he doesn’t know if they can build back to where they were before the rodeo, he’d like to try.

She steps forward, a thin smile on her face that makes him worried maybe there is no finding their way back. He resolves himself to having a long conversation with her about their future and where they see it going by the end of next week.

“Pepper, will you accept this rose?”

She nods once. “I will,” she says softly. She doesn’t offer up anything to make him feel better when she hugs him, but her lips brush against his cheek as they part. He thinks that’s probably good enough.

“Thor,” he calls, picking up the next rose. Even the usually exuberant Thor is subdued as he walks out of the lineup. “Thor, will you accept this rose?”

“Of course,” Thor says. His hug, too, is silent, just as Pepper’s was.

Tony pauses, hand hovering over the next rose. There are just two roses left. There are five alphas standing in front of him: Bruce, Loki, Wanda, Janet, and Ty. He takes a deep breath, reminding himself that he doesn’t have to justify himself to anyone. No matter who goes home tonight, there will be questions, but he doesn’t have to answer them. This is his choice, his happiness that is at stake here, and he will not force himself to hold that happiness hostage to make the alphas happy.

With that in mind, he says, “Loki.”

Yes, Loki had been the person to start this whole mess tonight. But Tony thinks about their date last week and Loki’s fingers running through his hair during the games, and he thinks that there’s still something left to be explored. He isn’t ready to say goodbye to Loki just yet, though, as with Pepper, he thinks that they’ll need to have a serious conversation this upcoming week. What happened tonight cannot be allowed to happen again. If Loki is so worried about another alpha, then maybe this isn’t the right place for him.

Loki’s tense posture relaxes. He steps down after the riser with a polite, murmured, “Excuse me,” to the two alphas in front of him.

“Loki, will you accept this rose?” Tony asks, trying not to let his unease show. He knows that there are good reasons for why he kept Loki here, but he can’t help but worry that he’s making a mistake. He doubts that Loki caused trouble on purpose, but he can’t deny that he did cause trouble. Will it be this bad next week too or will Loki straighten up?

“Yes,” Loki says. When he hugs Tony, he adds, “I’m terribly sorry for how I behaved tonight. I hope you’ll give me the chance to make it up to you.”

Tony smiles listlessly at him. “Thank you for that.”

And then there was one.

He barely notices as Nick comes out to remind everyone that this is the last rose being given out tonight. The red rose gleams dully under the light, catching his eye and attention. No matter who he sends home tonight, he’s going to break his own heart. After five weeks together, he feels like he’s gotten to know these alphas. He has feelings for some of them. It’s a hard decision to make. But he has to follow his heart, and right now, his heart is urging him in one direction. But, fuck, it hurts.

“Ty,” he says eventually.

He can’t bear to look at the other alphas as Ty walks forward. He can barely even stand to look at Ty. The other alphas will be predictable—anger, disappointment, shock, all warring on their faces—and Ty looks so pleased and honestly, somewhat smug, that Tony doesn’t want to see his face either.

The truth is, before tonight, he’d truly thought that short of a miracle, there was nothing Ty could do to turn their date around and earn a rose. But then tonight had happened. At the end of it all, it wasn’t anything that Ty had done to earn a rose. It was the dogpiling. He’s so frustrated with Bruce and Janet—and yes, Loki too, though he gave Loki a rose—that he wanted to send them home more than he did Ty. They were the ones leading the charge tonight. They were the ones who ruined the night for him. And while he isn’t certain about keeping Ty here, he knows for certain that he no longer sees a future of any kind with either Janet or Bruce.

If he’s being honest with himself, he hasn’t seen a future with them for a while. He feels bad eliminating Wanda, when she was one of the few alphas to actually participate tonight instead of picking a fight, but he doesn’t see anything romantic developing between them. He will be donating to her organization though. During his grandfather’s time, Stark Industries helped destroy Wanda’s country. Their money can help build it back up. Janet is bubbly and exuberant and fun to be around, but she’s also just too much for him. He wants someone who’ll settle him, not spin him up even further. And as for Bruce, despite his claims, Tony just can’t stop thinking that he’s a replacement for a dead woman, that Bruce would be here for any bachelorette, not just him. It feels low of him, but it’s how he feels, and if that question is always bubbling in the back of his mind, then there’s no way forward for them.

“Ty,” he says, keeping his eyes more on the rose than on the alpha. “Will you accept this rose?”

“With my whole heart,” Ty swears. When he hugs him, Tony more reluctant than he has been in weeks, it’s to say, “Thank you for seeing it my way.”

“Don’t be a dick, Ty,” Tony says, all but begging him. “Not tonight.”

Ty pauses. “Okay,” he says and steps back.

Nick walks in, lips pressed so tightly together they’re nearly bloodless. Steve can tell that he has thoughts on the people Tony eliminated, but to his credit, Nick keeps them to himself. Steve just hopes that the other alphas can keep their thoughts to themselves as well. Whatever reasons Tony has for keeping Ty here, whether he agrees with them or not, within the context of the show, that’s entirely Tony’s decision. Steve will keep working behind the scenes to get Ty pulled off, but he doesn’t need to bring that up to Tony.

He will admit to being surprised that Bruce was sent home though. Bruce has consistently been one of the first persons to get a rose each week. He had a one-on-one. Tony must have truly been furious with him about tonight to decide to eliminate him.

“Alphas,” Nick says. “I’m sorry. If you did not receive a rose, take a moment and say your goodbyes.”

Steve can’t help but notice that none of the eliminated alphas say goodbye to Ty. He hopes that Tony sees it too. In the meantime, he offers hugs to Wanda and Janet. When he goes to hug Bruce too, though, Bruce stops him.

“You’ll protect him since I won’t be able to now, won’t you?” Bruce asks. It shouldn’t surprise him that Bruce, at least, has figured out who he really is but he can’t stop the chagrined downturn of his lips. Bruce smiles ruefully. “We’re not all as blind as Tony can be.”

“I’ll protect him,” Steve promises.

“Thank you.” Bruce glances at Tony. “I guess I shouldn’t have gone so hard on Ty. That man worries me, though. I look at him, and I see Blonsky.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees heavily. “I’ll keep an eye out for him—both of them.”

As soon as the last eliminated alpha is gone, Tony lets his voice turn as hard as it’s wanted to all night.

“Now we talk,” he says sharply. “I don’t want what happened tonight to ever happen again. I am so mad with all of you. We are in one of the most beautiful locations in one of the most historic cities in the world, and you ruined what should have been an amazing night. This whole thing has been a mess since the very first night, but I’m feeling so defeated right now that there’s a very real part that wants to says ‘fuck it,’ send all of you home, and start over somewhere that doesn’t have all these cameras. I don’t know if I see a future with anybody at the end of this. There are five weeks left, and I don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel.

“We have to get on the same page. I don’t want to feel this way again, and I’m trying to let that go because I don’t want to let it out on you, but it’s hard. I really just want to give up. You don’t have to like my choices, but you do have to respect them, or else, I don’t know what you’re doing here. From this point on, I’m no longer asking you, I am telling you to keep your focus on you and me. Stop looking over and checking on what someone else is doing. So. Good. Night.”

Chapter Text

“J,” Tony says to his watch as he storms into his hotel room, “look up whichever charity Pietro Maximoff operates, find out their funding goal for the year, and match our donation to double it.”

He might not believe that Wanda is his future alpha, but her passion and love for her country shines through in every word that she says. It’s admirable, how much she wants to help rebuild her war-torn homeland. So, given that Stark weapons helped tear it apart, Tony sees nothing wrong with spending some of the millions that he has to help her and her brother out.

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS replies.

That done, he all but rips off his jumpsuit (the heels are nowhere to be seen, and he hopes that someone remembered to pick them up from the palace) and changes into a much more comfortable set of sweats and tank top. He swipes a bottle of wine from the minifridge and slouches out to his balcony. He takes a larger-than-healthy swig from the bottle as he stares moodily at the Colosseum lit by the streetlights just across the street. It goes down easily, aided by the sheer amount of champagne he’s drunk tonight.

Feeling broodier than usual—that’s definitely a word, Rhodey, no matter what the dictionary says—he climbs up on top of the railing. One leg he tucks to his chest, resting his cheek on his knee. The other leg, he lets hang carelessly over the side. Even drunk, he has excellent balance, not even wobbling as he sits there, glaring at the historic vista.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not for him—not for anyone but especially not for him. Fuck, has every bachelorette had to put up with this? He applauds them for having as few breakdowns as they did. If this is the kind of bullshit that’s been going on behind the scenes for the last twenty years, then it’s no wonder that so few of them find happily ever afters on this show. He’d thought for certain that he could game the system. He knew all the tricks, he knew what the others did wrong; it should’ve been easy for him. Instead, he feels farther from finding his own happy ending than he did before he went on the show. He can feel it slipping through his fingers faster than the grains of sand through an hourglass—literally. Time is ticking away. Week 5 has come and gone, and his heart is so tied up in knots that he doesn’t feel certain about anyone.

Well… he thinks wryly as the now-expected knock on the door comes, maybe not anyone.

“Who is it?” he calls, raising his voice just enough to carry. When he’d stomped through the door twenty minutes ago, he’d thought that he’d wanted to be alone. And depending on who’s at the door, he might still want to be alone. But if it’s who he thinks it is, then that person is more than welcome.

“Uh,” a familiar voice says through the thick wood. Tony smiles to himself at the endearing hesitation. “It’s Steve? But I can go if you don’t want me here. I just thought you might—”

“It’s fine,” Tony interrupts him. Steve has seen him despondent before. He’s seen him mad at the production crew. The only new thing here is that he’s never been mad at the other contestants, but honestly, it doesn’t look that different from his other anger. “Come on in. Door’s open.”

Steve frowns as he opens the door. “You know, that’s not really safe,” he starts to say, unable to stop himself, only to pause when he doesn’t immediately spot Tony. “Tony?” He knows that Tony has a watch with his AI installed on it, no matter how secretive he thinks he’s being about that, but no one has let Tony have a phone, so he couldn’t have been listening to a phone call, right?

“Out here,” Tony calls. Steve follows the sound of his voice to the open balcony door, where Tony is perched precariously on top of the railing, a half-empty bottle of wine dangling carelessly from his fingers.

“Never mind,” he declares, walking determinedly towards Tony. “That’s not safe.”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t going to fall,” Tony grumbles, not moving.

“Uh-huh,” Steve says, unimpressed. He goes to take up a spot right next to Tony’s ankle, so he can catch him if he falls.

Tony says, “Oh no.” He points at him with the wine bottle. “This is a judgment-free zone, mister. If you can’t keep your opinions about my bad choices to yourself, then you can leave.”

To his credit, it is a fairly broad railing and he doesn’t sway even once during his brief diatribe. Steve holds up his hands in surrender. He definitely can’t stop Tony from falling if he’s in his own hotel room, packing for the plane to France tomorrow. But he’s got a better shot at catching him if he’s here, on this balcony, even if it means keeping his judgments to himself.

“Good,” Tony says. He studies him for a moment, then tips the bottle towards him. “Drink?”

“Nah, I think I had enough tonight.” One of them needs to keep a clear head, and it definitely won’t be Tony, if he’s already had that much. He rests his crossed arms on the railing, looking at the Colosseum across the street. Steve had thought that he had a pretty decent view, but it’s got nothing on Tony’s third-story vantage point.

“Why is it,” Tony begins after a second, “that anytime something goes wrong, you’re the only one who shows up at my door?”

Steve is certain that he’s giving him the classic deer in the headlights look, but Tony isn’t even looking at him. He’s studying the bottle in his hands like it holds all the answers to his problems. If that were true, Steve’s dad would probably have been a much nicer person.

“There are at least half a dozen alphas there who I would consider to be decent people,” Tony continues, and Steve relaxes. It’s not about him being there. It’s about the others not. “But consistently, every single time, you’re the one showing up. Why is that? Am I doing something wrong? Am I not… attractive enough as an omega to want to comfort?”

Steve’s urge is to rush to reassure him that he’s not doing anything wrong. But after tonight, after being so thoroughly ignored, he doubts that Tony would believe him. He takes a deep breath and thinks through his answer instead. See, Peggy, he is capable of rational thought (sometimes).

“Maybe they’ve been trying but they haven’t been able to get past the bodyguards,” he says because he doesn’t want to lie to him.

Tony exhales slowly. “You have.”

He shrugs. “Maybe I’m just better at it than they are.” And maybe he’s a piece of shit who’s lying anyway. Fuck but he hates the corner Pierce has forced him into. “Besides, a dad like mine, you learn to get pretty good at sneaking around.”

“Yeah,” Tony says softly.

Mentioning his dad does exactly what he’d hoped it would do—put an end to that line of conversation. But now they need something else to talk about, so he brings up the reason why he’d come: “Do you want to talk about tonight?”

Tony laughs hollowly. “Fuck no. All we ever do on this fucking show is talk, and it never goes anywhere.”

Steve nods. Yeah, he’s seen that. “Okay.” He can’t blame him for not wanting to talk about it anymore.

“It’s just—” Tony immediately says, and Steve bites back a smile. He’s starting to learn how Tony works: give him the opening and he’ll talk, but you can’t push. He’ll shut down faster than a forty year-old computer. “You have one very public relationship go very publicly sour when you’re sixteen, and suddenly, everyone paints you as this hopeless sucker who can’t get romance right. And because you’ve already got that reputation, the only people who want to date you are the ones that are guaranteed to go just as bad. So you get used to it, right? You get used to people calling you a slut or laughing about how you can’t make a single alpha stay for longer than a few months or even worse, the fucking pity because you’re supposed to be biologically made to attract an alpha and you can’t even do that.

“And then it gets even worse because there’s a whole bunch of people who watched your parents have this fairytale romance on national television, and they’re still held up as the shining pinnacle of the meaning of romance. You spend your entire life listening to people say that they’re the reason they believe in love or people showing up at your door to get advice from them. And those same people turn around and look at you and ask what’s wrong with you that you can’t do the same thing?”

“Tony—” Steve says softly, feeling his heart break all over again for him.

“No, just let me—let me get through this,” Tony begs him. He swings his leg over the side of the balcony, so that he’s fully facing the inside of the room now. “You hear all of this your entire life, and then someone shows up at your front door and says, ‘What if we have you do the same thing your parents did when they fell in love?’ And you think that’s it, that’s the solution to all of your problems, because you’ve heard the stories. You know how this works. You know how to avoid the other people’s mistakes. So you take them up on it, except you don’t know how to make this work because every time you try to do something, it gets undermined and undercut until you have no idea what you’re doing anymore. And this dream has turned into a fucking nightmare, and now you’re sitting here wondering why your parents lied about this being so easy.”

“God, Tony, that…” Steve trails off, hardly able to think about it. He would say he’s had a hard time dating, for sure, but compared to Tony? With three-quarters of the world eagerly waiting to see him fail and the remaining quarter constantly comparing him to his fairytale-romance parents and declaring him short? He can’t imagine how much pressure he must have felt just going into this show, and that’s before the producer decided to set himself against him.

“That fucking sucks,” he says eventually. It doesn’t feel strong enough but Tony toasts him anyway.

“You said it, buddy.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Meaningless platitudes about the show’s fans probably only wanting the same things for him that his parents got probably won’t help any. Neither will any reassurances about people’s thoughts about his failed love life so far.

So he does what his ma always told him to do when someone was hurting: ask. “What do you need from me?”

Tony looks at him, eyes wide and dark and vulnerable. “Hold me?”

So Steve does. For nearly an hour, he stands there, arms wrapped tightly around Tony as the shaking omega sobs out his stress. And when he finally feels Tony slump against him in sleep, he picks him up, carries him to his bed, and kisses his forehead before leaving.

Steve jolts awake to the knock on his door.

“Wha—” he says muzzily, glancing at his watch as he drags himself out of bed. Geez, it’s only four in the morning. There’s still two more hours before he has to be up to get to the airport. The only reason anyone is knocking on his door is… is because there’s a problem. A problem serious enough to risk breaking his cover.

Sharon is waiting on the other side of the door, mouth set grimly. “We’ve got a problem,” she says.

Oh no.

“Tony ran.”